Mine
by KittyMeowMaxwell
Summary: Irvine is settled in his life, and has no wish to change it, but there are savages in the forest and one of them has his eye on the pretty cowboy. AU YAOI
1. Taken

Warnings: Language, only a li'l yaoi, het lemon (argh! Het!) character obsession… That's about it… for _this_ chapter. Trust me, it'll get better. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own the FF8 characters or their affiliates. All I own is this plot, the chocobo's personalities, a Chihuahua and a plastic sword.

Pairings: Not a chance in hell I'm telling.

Author's Notes: I believe I owe you an explanation. The explanation is "cowboys". Therefore, the explanation is "Hicky". Hicky's got this obsession with cowboys that she says stems from Irvine, and her obsession seems to have recently rubbed off on me. Anyway, there was this one-hour special on when the west was wild and the men were men and all that stuff. It was on while I was in Bendigo, and my landlady didn't _like_ it, so she turned it off fifteen minutes in – about _five seconds_ before the cowboys turned up. So pissed off.

Anyway, I'd been anticipating cowboys all day, so I decided I had to give _myself_ some. Hence, this fic, starring our very own resident cowboy, Irvine Kinneas. Damn, I love Irvine.

On location: I have no idea where this fic is located. Somewhere in the FF8 world, or some _other_ world of my own creation. I did find a place on a FF8 map that fitted, but I can't remember what it was and I can't be bothered going to look, because it's one a.m. I'm sure Hicky will tell me when she finds this – she's obsessive like that.

The working title of this fic (it's currently 85 pages long, including footnotes) was "_West_", because that's what it's based off, but that's a pretty fucking pathetic title, so I changed it. The title I have given it, I'm not going to explain, because that would be too much giving the plot away.

This _is_ a yaoi story, I swear.

Anyway. Enjoy.

**_Mine._****_ – _**_KittyMeowMaxwell_

_Chapter One – Taken._

Irvine straightened, ducking flailing beaks and flying feathers with a grin and a laugh as the chocobos darted in all around him to get at the grain he'd put in their feed trough. They avoided him, but only because his father had them trained, a whip-crack by their ears a well-learned lesson for pecking or kicking a human. But only ever close, they'd never even lost a feather to the pin-point _crack_ of Eli's stock-whip.

The cowboy got out of the flurry of chocobos and dusted off his hands against one another, then righted his hat on his auburn hair, turning to watch the birds feed. He loved chocobos. There was no deceit or trickery in them, and they adored him without question. They didn't care what he looked like or what he thought, they only cared that he fed them and combed out their feathers, plucking the dead ones and stroking their crests.

"Irvine!"

Irvine groaned and ducked around the flock of chocobos, putting the yellow birds between himself and the homestead. It was Eli's voice, gentle and commanding all at once, and the cowboy knew what his father would be calling him for. He hadn't milked the cows yet. They'd be heavy with milk this time of the day, and mooing mournfully at the gate, waiting for him to let them in and relieve them of the painful burden.

But, Hyne, he hated the job. He could handle anything to do with the chocobos, even mucking out their stables, but he hated cows. He hated how they smelled, how they felt, how they shuffled their feet and moved so that he missed the metal pail he was aiming for and hit his boots instead, how they complained if his hands were too cold, how they threw their heads back and moooooed until he tied them in position for their milking. The only thing he liked about cows was their big, liquid eyes, and the softer mooing sounds they made when they gently nudged their new calves up onto wobbling legs and encouraged them to take their first steps.

"Irvine!"

He didn't move, still remaining behind the flock of chocobos.

"C'mon, son, I know yer there with them damn birds. Yer always there with them damn birds. C'mon out. Jerseys're mooin' for yer."

Irvine sighed. If he made Eli come down from the house, then he'd end up having an audience for the milking, and that only made him fuck up more, generally speaking. Damn cows… They did it on purpose, he was sure.

"Yeah, Pa. I'm goin'. I hear them." He came out from behind the flock, lifting his hat from his head and waving it at his father. He couldn't see it from here, but he knew there'd be a grin on that weather-beaten, once-handsome face.

"Get on inside when yer done. Ma's just about got supper on the table."

"Yessir," Irvine called back, then went to see to the cows.

There were only four of them, big eyes and brown-on-white fur. It probably didn't take him very long to milk them and put them to bed, but it seemed to him to take an age, because he couldn't stand them. When he was done, he closed the gate behind the last Jersey and headed out of the barn, waving his hat at the chocobos as they warked at him over the fence, hoping he might feed them again.

"You ain't gettin' nothin' more. I'll come put you to bed after supper," he told them, then went inside.

"There you are. Thought them cows'd swallowed you."

Irvine could never help but smile at his mother. She was almost as tall as him, only a few inches shorter, and he was only a few inches shorter than his father. Her hair was golden, which hid the grey coming in at her temples, and she had a pair of the brightest, bluest eyes Irvine had ever seen on a human being. People told him he had his mother's eyes, and he usually just smiled and thanked them. She was slender, but all muscle and so strong. She could carry a basket of potatoes as heavy as one Irvine could manage back from the vegetable patch, and she kept the house as free of dust and dirt as was possible out here.

'Out here', of course, was the edge of nowhere. Frontier country where only the strongest could survive. The land was cheap, but the life was hard. It was an hour-and-a-half ride to the little town that marked this stretch of the cattle drive, and eight hours by stagecoach from there to the nearest permanent town. From there, Irvine knew, one could get a stagecoach to anywhere, or at least to the edge of the ocean, where one could get on a ship. He, however, had no wish to go anywhere, except into town for a drink at the saloon, or a chat at the general store.

"Irvine," his mother said, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looked up from his unseeing contemplation of the tablecloth to blink owlishly at her.

"Ma?"

She tapped her forehead and he winced, then reached up to drag his hat free of his head. It became such a part of him during the time he spent outside that he always forgot to take it off inside. His mother was patient, but he hated to disappoint her, even a little.

"Sorry," he said, but she only smiled and put a bowl of steaming stew and a hunk of fresh-baked bread before him.

"Boy'd forget his head if it weren't attached, sure 'n' certain," Eli said, reaching across to rap his knuckles lightly against Irvine's head.

"Pa," Irvine complained, batting at the hand, but they both laughed.

"Eat up now, boys, afore it goes cold."

"Slave-driver!" Eli lamented. "Yer a slave-driver, Leanne." But he set to with a will. He was as dark as his wife was fair, with a thick mop of shaggy brown hair, shot through, now, with grey, and dark, warm brown eyes that sometimes made Irvine think of the innocent, liquid gaze the cows had. His shoulders were broad and his hands were work-calloused, his arms thick with corded muscle. Leanne had once said with tender teasing to her son that his father was like a walking wall.

Leanne shook her head at Eli and sat down to her own dinner, watching Irvine briefly as he carefully tore a strip off the bread and dipped it in the stew. She loved him dearly, but he really was more than a little strange. He spent more time with the chocobos than he did with people, and even when they went into town, she rarely saw him with a girl. Eli had noticed it too, but they said nothing to Irvine – he was too dear to them. They would have expected him to be thinking about striking out on his own by now, at the age of nineteen, but he didn't seem inclined to do anything of the sort.

"Irvine," Eli said when they were all done with their stew and had moved onto Leanne's specialty, peach pie. "That new young chocobo. He's headstrong and difficult, but the O'Learys want him. They were here not two days ago and decided on him. I want yer ter take him over to them tomorrow."

Irvine looked up, arching a brow.

"Why not do it yourself?" he wondered curiously.

"Too much ter do around the ranch. I'll milk the cows for yer, if yer take him."

_Well_, Irvine thought, _I sure won't be passin' up a chance to miss out on _that

"Sure I'll do it, Pa. I'd, like, be glad to."

"That's settled, then. Ye'll pack a lunch, Leanne?"

"Well o'course. I sure ain't gonna let him starve to death!"

Irvine grinned at his mother, pushing his ponytail back over his shoulder. He loved her so much. It was a huge part of the reason he never bothered to explain to people that he couldn't 'have his mother's eyes', because she wasn't really his mother. Nor was Eli his father. They had adopted him long before they all came out here, picked him up from an orphanage in one of the big towns. He didn't remember it very well, only remembered how his new mamma had smelled and how it had felt when his new dada patted his hair.

And there were painful feelings, too, far more vague and unnamed. A place in him that hurt when he tried to completely forget the time before Eli and Leanne had come for him. He couldn't remember anymore why that was.

After they finished dessert, Irvine headed back outside in the failing light to put the chocobos in their stables, separating the new yearling and his own bird ready for the morning. That done, he slipped out of stables and went to the railing of the corral, climbing up and swinging his legs over to sit and watch the sun set.

The sky was painted in an array of reds, golds and dark, dark blues that made Irvine take a breath of pure awe. The mountain tops threw the colours back in pale relief and the spindly trees ranged across the horizon scribbled a black contrast across the rich reds. A Grendel howled at the rising moon as it lifted, silver and majestic, over the jagged peaks.

It was so beautiful. Irvine never ceased to be amazed by Hyne's skills.

- - - - - -

Ah, ah, _ah_, the cowboy was a sight to see.

He had never felt any express need to associate with so-called 'civilized' peoples, but this cowboy – Irvine he had heard him called – easily lead him to think otherwise. He would very much like to associate with _this_ 'civilized' person… and perhaps turn him 'savage'.

That was the name these 'civilized' people gave to his kind, but he could care less what they thought. He liked his people and he liked himself, and he would like to have this cowboy _to_ himself. He highly doubted Irvine would have even entertained the notion of touching another man the way a man touched a woman, but he had decided months ago he wanted to plant that notion in the cowboy's mind.

Ai! The line of his neck, the curve of his hips, the fan of that hair across his back… Ah, yes, and those long, long legs. He could imagine them, already, wrapped around his waist in a silent plea – _More, please, more!_

It was all he could do to stay where he was, hidden in the wild tangle of bushes and shrubs that crept around the edges of the ranch. The cowboy's father tried to keep it tamed, but there was only so much he could do, and it always crept back, because there were more important jobs. But oh! He wanted to take the cowboy now… He would look so good without all those coverings…

"Irvine!"

He saw the cowboy look to the house and his fingers flexed against the ground. He tensed, forcing himself to stay where he was as Irvine hopped off the fence and headed up to the house and disappeared inside.

With a lick of his lips, he disappeared too, back into the wilds that were his home.

- - - - - -

The next morning, Irvine left the house with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. The prospect of almost a full day spent with only chocobos for company, and no cows made him feel like singing. His father was even going to put the cows out to pasture this morning.

Eli came out behind him, shaking his head and laughing at something Leanne had said, and gave him a hurry up when he paused at the top of the stairs.

"Off yer go, son. Chocobos still need feedin' afore you leave."

"Yes, Pa," Irvine agreed, and headed off to do just that. This morning, he filled their feed trough before he let them out, so he didn't get caught in the mob of birds. His own chocobo, and the yearling for the O'Learys, he fed separately, and once they were done, he saddled and bridled his bird, then eased a bridle over the yearling's head. He was only partially broken, and Irvine wasn't even sure what the hurry was. He supposed Mr. O'Leary wanted to break the bird in himself. He could understand that.

"Easy, fella. Shh, shh… It's alright. Ain't gonna hurt you none," he promised as he slipped the soft leather over the yellow feathers, then carefully slid the bit into the bird's beak. "There now. Ain't so bad," he murmured, stroking the orange beak.

The yearling chuffed worriedly through his nostrils at Irvine's hat, and the cowboy laughed, ruffling his crest. He fixed a lead-rope to the bridle, then tied it securely to his bird, Whipcrack's, saddle. His lunch went into Whipcrack's saddlebags, then he led the two birds out into the early-morning hush.

The sun was barely up, but the cows were off already, along their well-worn track to wherever it was they went every day. Their bells clanked dully and they mooed lowly to one another, as though afraid to break the reverent hush. Eli waved from the barn door and Leanne mirrored the gesture from the verandah. Irvine smiled at his parents and lifted his hat to them, then swung up into the saddle and set off at an easy trot, out through the gate and off towards the O'Leary ranch.

They had a lot more cattle than Eli did, Irvine knew, and while his family dealt primarily in chocobos, the O'Learys dealt in their cattle. They sold milk, cream and butter and bred and sold their stock, not only as breeders for other ranchers, but for meat as well. Irvine had tasted O'Leary beef, and he didn't think there was anything anywhere else that was so juicy and tender. Cows were better that way, he mused, which he supposed was slightly animalistic, but they tasted _good_.

He knew the real reason behind Eli's decision to send him off with the yearling. Selphie O'Leary – Tilmitt, really, but she rarely went by that name anymore. He remembered her from the same orphanage his parents had taken him from, so he supposed they figured he was more likely to decide he wanted to marry her than he was to decide he wanted to marry anyone else. But he honestly didn't feel inclined to marry _anyone_ at this point in time. He liked his life exactly the way it was right now, and he'd rather it didn't change. A wife would change it drastically.

He saw the lines of worry on his father's brow when the rains were too late, or the sun was too hot or the wind blew too hard. No grass meant no extra feed for the chocobos, which meant it all had to come from Eli's pockets, and they weren't very deep. Running a ranch was too much worry, and Irvine didn't want to have to worry like that.

If nothing else, it would ruin his good looks.

Oh, yes, he knew he possessed good looks. Hell, he used them often enough. He'd spent more time in haystacks and meadows with women than his parents knew, and he'd even tumbled one Selphie O'Leary more than once down the back of her father's hayshed. He _liked_ women well enough, he just didn't particularly fancy settling down with one, not the least reason being it would mean being faithful to her alone, and keeping away from other women.

"Huh," he snorted at Whipcrack as they passed through shortening shadows of spindly trees and low-standing bushes. "You don't bother to pick one female and keep her for yourself, do you, boy? Hell no! You take who you want, when you want, and who, like, cares what the other females think? That's the best way to be, sure 'n' certain."

The chocobo gave a low wark and shook his crest, dancing a little on the spot.

"You wanna run, Whipcrack? I think we can do that."

And with a kick of his heels and a click of his tongue, Whipcrack bunched beneath him, then shot off like a bullet along the track, the yearling stumbling a step, then gathering himself and giving a happy kweh! at the fast pace. If nothing else, all chocobos _loved_ to run.

- - - - - -

Aha! Now, here was a chance. The cowboy was evidently going on a long trip. He had packed food and his father was already working on his chores. Yes, but it would be safer, better, if he took the cowboy on the way back. That would give him the longest period of time to get away before Eli and Leanne realised Irvine wasn't coming back and sent out search parties. With guns.

Irvine had a gun. It was holstered in his chocobo's saddle, and he could certainly shoot with it. But he had confidence he would be able to surprise the cowboy and make sure he never laid a hand to the shining black metal.

He hated guns, but he had to admit Irvine looked good holding one. The calm ease with which the cowboy would bring it up to fire at whatever he happened to be aiming for was a sight worth seeing. And he could hit _anything_. Be it a stationary milk bottle or a hare streaking from one scrubby bush to the next, Irvine would hit it.

It was sheer beauty.

But he would prefer if the length of that gun was never aimed at _him_. Being dead wasn't a very good way to go about getting the cowboy underneath him.

He spent the day tracking Irvine, his own mount jittery and eager to say hello to the two birds the cowboy had with him, but the chocobo was well-trained, and daren't do anything her master didn't want her to do.

He left his chocobo well away from the O'Learys' ranch, but crept close himself, so that he wouldn't lose sight of the cowboy.

- - - - - -

Irvine was glad he'd swung down from Whipcrack's saddle and tethered the two birds to a fence post before he moved closer to the O'Leary homestead, because Selphie came tearing out the door and launched herself at him like a bull at a gate.

"Irvy!" she cried, as she always did, and cannoned into him with enough force to send him sprawling on his back. He was thankful her father would be out checking over his cattle at this time of day, because she wasted no time raining kisses on his face, paying special attention to his mouth, which – as was only polite – replied, seeking her lips for a deeper, hotter kiss.

"Selphie," he breathed after a moment. "Your Mamma's gonna catch us, and _then_ what'll you do?"

"Marry you, I should hope," she retorted, but hopped off him and dusted her long skirts free of dust.

He rolled his eyes at her back as she turned and waltzed up the stairs.

"I ain't marryin' no-one, Selphie!" he informed her before she was out of ear-shot.

"Tell your Mamma that, and I might believe you sometime, cowboy."

He made a face as she disappeared inside, but he knew she was right. Eventually, he _would_ have to get married and find his own patch of land to make a living off of, or build his wife a house on his father's land, ready to inherit when Eli got too old to run the place. But, _Hyne_… the very _idea_ of getting married brought a bad taste to his mouth. Nevertheless, if he had to do it, it would be Selphie he did it with.

"Irvine! C'mon in and have somethin' to drink before you set off back, won't you?"

That was Selphie's Mamma. Irvine went up the steps to the verandah and ducked inside, for once remembering to take his hat off the moment he was across the threshold. He hung it on a peg and wandered further into the cool dimness of Selphie's home, knowing his way to the kitchen through years of time spent here.

He spent a good half hour with the O'Leary women, then excused himself and went to take the yearling to their stables. He didn't notice Selphie until he'd taken the bridle off the chocobo and slipped out of the stall, turning to head back to Whipcrack. She was grinning at him, and he knew what she wanted without her needing to say anything. But she came to him anyway and smoothed a hand across his chest.

"Listen, cowboy, why not take a minute or three to relax, huh?" Her dainty fingers dropped to his belt buckle and deftly began to undo it.

"Your Mamma's gonna find out you ain't the innocent virgin girl she thinks you are someday, Selphie, and what'll you do then…?" he wondered, but his mouth was already tracing along her hairline and the fingers of one hand were already hitching up her skirts.

"Don't matter. You're the only man for me, and you're the only man that's ever touched me, so I _was_ virgin when my husband first took me."

"I ain't marryin' no-one," Irvine reminded her again, leading her over to lay down in the hay, at the back in the shadows where no-one who chanced to come in would be able to see them.

She laughed as his gloved hand smoothed up her thigh, her skirts gathered around her waist and her hands deep inside his pants, working to free him from them.

"Naw, you ain't marryin' no-one, you're marryin' _me_," she replied, affecting his drawl with a giggle and a smirk.

His mouth came against hers and he kissed her to shut her up, then murmured; "Gotta be quick, li'l darlin'. Ma'll expect me home not too long after dinner."

She made an agreeable sound, and they spoke no more.

- - - - - -

He knew what they were doing. The girl had gone in there with fire in her eyes and a swing in her hips, and he knew the cowboy wasn't one to say no. He didn't need to see or hear them to know why they were taking so long to come out of the stables.

He showed his teeth. He would like to tell the girl just what he thought of her, but he knew she would scream and run away the second she saw him. Mind, that wasn't such a bad idea. That could be an amusing activity. But he mustn't alert Irvine to his presence. This would be the best moment to snatch the cowboy away, once he and his chocobo were out of sight of the O'Leary place.

It only remained to be patient, but that wasn't easy when he could imagine those dainty little hands all over what was rightfully his. Ai! To touch that skin and smooth his fingers over the undulation of shoulder, waist, hip, thigh. He could picture the twitch of that soft skin, the way work-built muscles would flex as Irvine arched off the many-coloured pelts he would lay the cowboy down on.

And those various bits of cloth Irvine seemed inclined to cover himself with would be the first things to go, to be sure.

He backed away, deeper into the bushes when the cowboy and the girl came out of the stables, breathless and laughing. He graced her with one final kiss, then they parted, she to the homestead and he to his chocobo.

"There, Whipcrack, old boy. I'm sorry I made you wait, but I never were one to deny a lady," Irvine said as he untied the bird who warked and nudged at his hat, knocking it free of shining auburn tresses. "Bird!" Irvine accused, but he was laughing and he bent easily to sweep the hat off the ground, then swung into the saddle in the same movement.

No female deserved something that beautiful and graceful. He slipped away into the dappled shade of the scrub where his own chocobo waited for him, white-and-brown mottled feathers hiding her better than if he had made her lay down and covered her with branches and leaves. He clucked at her and she came to him, half-crouching and cocking a wing out so he could rest a knee on it and swing up onto her back. They had no need of such crude devices as saddles and reigns. He touched her lightly and she set off in pursuit of the cowboy and his mount.

They drew level quickly, moving silently along beside the track Irvine took, humming tunelessly to himself. The cowboy took no notice of him, but he noticed the cowboy. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't.

He glanced over his shoulder to judge the distance from the ranch they'd left, and a smirk curved his lips once they drew out of sight. He reached into the little Anacondaur-skin pouch at his hip and withdrew a blow-pipe and chocobo-feathered dart. He touched his bird's shoulder, a silent _steady there_, then brought pipe and dart to his lips and blew, short and sharp.

Irvine's hand came up to his neck where the dart lodged and he winced, then cried out lowly when he felt the culprit. He looked wildly around, but it was too late – the sleeping poison was already in his veins and he was already wavering in his saddle. Whipcrack made a confused sound, slewing to the side as Irvine's weight slipped, and gloved hands clutched uselessly at golden feathers before he fell to the ground.

Whipcrack gave a terrified wark and nudged at his master's fallen form. Irvine struggled to get to his feet, but it was useless, and the cowboy was soon fast asleep. The cowboy's bird danced nervously on the spot, looking around, then stilled as he and his chocobo stepped out of the spindly cover. The golden bird cocked his head.

"Shh, shh…" he soothed, moving close on his bird and reaching out to touch the yellow crest.

Whipcrack was too confused to do anything but obey, and there were no complaints when he slipped off his own bird and bent to touch the cowboy's neck, feeling for the sign of life. Ah, yes. There it was, still beating strong. He lifted Irvine's weight easily and laid him carefully across his bird's neck, then climbed up behind him to steady him. With one hand, he took the golden bird's reigns, with the other he held Irvine where he was, and with his knees he turned his own chocobo and headed up into the foothills, towards the place he had prepared.

He had been waiting for this for some time.

- - - - - -

Author's Notes: On the ambiguous "him". "He" is based solidly on no real "savage", as it were. I don't profess to know much of anything about American Indians and I truly can't even say I know much about my own country's Aboriginals. This fanfiction is entirely that – fiction.

Okay, "he" might be based loosely on snippets gained from actual peoples, but "he" is mostly part of a random culture native to Gaia that I have yanked out of thin air.

Finally: There ends the hetness. It's all yaoi from here on in, friends.

So, didja like it? Updates will be pretty regular to begin with, until I get up to where I've written, and then it might take longer. Although, with Hicky spending the first ten seconds of every online conversation gong "West?" the whip is well-cracked, and I don't mean Eli's. She's a slave-driver. Really.


	2. Touched

Warnings: Language, yaoi (duh), strange native behaviour, weird conversations between Hicky and I… Okay, I'm stopping.

Disclaimer: I don't own Irvine or his FF8 friends, but I do own his "mother", the chocobos' personalities, the plot (steal it and _die_), the native's pet's personality, and over sixty dragon statues. However, the dragon statues are mine and I shall not give them up if you sue me. So there. :P I'll sic my Chihuahua on you!

Pairings: Not telling. (In some cases, I don't _know_… '')

Author's Notes: Hooray for the second chapter! does a dance Sorry it's been a while, but I had a visitor (Hicky! Hooray for us! She came _all_ the way to Australia. CD) and we were doing stuff. I even converted her to AFL. _Real_ football! Ha! Not that strange thing you Americans play in _too much padding_!

Anyway, about the fic. I love this fic. I love the native, most of all. He rules. And that's all I have to say.

On Language: Anything marked with backslashes, this /in this manner here/ is native language. Do not _ask_ me to tell you what it sounds like because I have _no_ idea. Just imagine it. I give you artistic license. ;)

Now! High, ho, Whipcrack, _away_!

_**Mine. – **KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Two – Touched._

When they arrived, his Gayla (1) wavered over to see what he had. He touched the velvet stand-on-end fur briefly, then shooed him away, and he went with a hiss of discontent. He chuckled and tethered the cowboy's chocobo, then removed the tack. His own bird had no need to be tethered, but he supposed he ought to tie this one up, at least until he trained it to behave.

Irvine shifted where he had been lain on the grass, drawing a glance. With a pat to Whipcrack's nose, he turned and went over to pick up the cowboy again and take him inside the cave he had prepared ready for this. Several soft pelts lay there, Mesmerize, Death Claw, Catoblepas, and even a Snow Lion pelt he had traded for some months ago. Upon these, he lay Irvine, stroking back the waves of hair that fell in front of the cowboy's face.

He swallowed, finding himself hard pressed not to just take what he wanted right there, but he would not do that. He wasn't the savage these people often made him out to be. But it was warm in the cave, warm enough to raise a sweat on his own near-naked body, so he wasted no time stripping Irvine bare and draping a light woven blanket over his lower body. Later, he would coax the cowboy into a loincloth like his own, but he didn't want to disturb him until he was ready to wake.

The dart went, removed and tossed into the fire upon which he threw a couple more logs. His chocobo ducked her head inside to see what he was doing and he smiled at her, then moved quietly around to fish out dried meat from a cool corner of the cave. This he wrapped carefully in a few green leaves, then set to cook in the hot coals at the base of the fire, away from the flames.

It wasn't long before the cowboy's nose was twitching at the aroma. He smiled and crouched by the fire to watch Irvine wake.

- - - - - - -

Irvine shifted on the pelts, one hand fisting in the soft fur beneath his fingers. He groaned slightly, and his other hand went to his neck, but he could feel no evidence of the dart he vaguely remembered being there. Perhaps he had been dreaming, but then, had he dreamed the entire trip to the O'Learys? Surely not.

The scent of cooking meat assailed his nostrils and his stomach gave a low growl, letting him know what it thought was the most important matter at hand. He rolled over onto his front and suddenly came to a realisation. He was naked. Yes, indeed. The furs he lay atop tickled his thighs, his stomach, his chest and when he shifted, he felt their soft brush across his skin. A rough blanket that he had managed to get wrapped around his hips provided a counterpoint, rasping across his backside and a far more tender area.

"Fuck…" he cursed lowly. "Where in Hyne's holy name…?"

He didn't bother to finish the question, preferring to open his eyes and discover for himself. What he saw made him catch his breath in shock.

He was in a cave, a merry fire burning in the center and various bits and pieces of backward hunting paraphernalia around. Something was cooking – it smelled delicious, and soft shifting sounds and low warks told him there were chocobos somewhere outside. But what truly shocked him was the individual crouched by the fire.

He had never seen a native up close, but he knew straight away that was what regarded him with a pair of sapphire eyes from beside the fire. He wore nothing but a spotted loincloth made of – as best Irvine could figure – Torama skin. His own skin was darker by several shades than Irvine's, and he shone with a fine sheen of sweat. The loincloth left little to the cowboy's imagination, falling straight down at the back and softly between a pair of powerful thighs that twitched slightly as the native shifted, watching him as intently as he watched the native. He could easily see the way those strong thighs flowed into hips and up to his waist. From toes to thighs to torso to chest to arms, there wasn't a scrap of wasted body mass. He was all muscle. Down the left side of his face was a black tattoo that was all sweeping lines and tapered points. Something similar, but in a band, wrapped around his right thigh and bled down towards the knee a little way. Bound into his golden hair, behind his right ear, were three long, blue-dyed Cockatrice feathers, and Irvine wondered with a vague sort of stunned detachment how in Hyne's name he got his hair to stand up like that at the front.

"Who are…" he started, then thought of something better. "Where am I?"

One golden brow winged upward and Irvine realised with a jolt that the native probably couldn't understand him. He swallowed, shifting, and looked helplessly around for his clothes while that quiet, sapphire gaze watched him attentively, barely blinking. At that moment, his stomach gave another insistent growl and he could have sworn there was a chuckle from the native's direction.

Suddenly, he was there and Irvine twitched, shimmying backward before he even thought about it. He hated that he couldn't even _see_ his gun, but this native seemed capable of taking his life without even needing one. The cowboy would swear black and blue this other man could snap his neck without even breaking a sweat – or at least more of one than he was already showing.

A hand patted his arm in silent comfort and a second quick one flashed into the coals and out again, bringing with it a leaf-wrapped bundle that made Irvine's mouth water. A second snatch, and a second bundle appeared. The first one, the native opened and left by Irvine, the other he took and moved away again, as though he were aware he made the cowboy nervous.

They ate in silence, each watching the other, then Irvine tried again.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Silence.

"What do you want with me?"

There was a slight smile from the native, but Irvine really didn't think it had so much to do with what he said as the fact that he kept trying. It appeared to him like the kind of smile a woman gives her baby when it tried its first sounds that would eventually be speech.

He sighed, then decided at least he might try and get some sort of name.

"Irvine," he said, pointing to himself.

Both golden brows went upward and Irvine felt like beating the man over the head with a stick.

"I'm Irvine," he repeated, pointing harder to himself. "You?" and he pointed to the native.

His new… friend… seemed to consider this for a long moment, then eventually pointed to himself.

"Zell."

"Zell? That's you? Zell."

Zell pointed to himself again, smiling, and Irvine found a smile too. At least he had a name to work with.

- - - - - - -

Oh, he was just too adorable. The cowboy seemed to have no idea that he had been the subject of Zell's intense watch for some months now. He certainly hadn't known Zell already knew his name.

The blanket was slipping perilously low and Zell's eyes were drawn there. He'd seen what lay there briefly before he had covered the cowboy, and he wished to see it again, but he knew he couldn't frighten Irvine. Not now. It was going to be hard enough keeping him from leaving without physically pinning him down.

…Although… that could be fun.

Ah, ah, ah! He had to stop this. He couldn't afford to let his body get the best of him now. It wouldn't take the cowboy long to figure it out if his thoughts strayed, not with only his loincloth to keep his own privacy.

But eventually. Eventually, he would have the cowboy, and make it known to whom he belonged. This was only the first step.

Suddenly, Irvine was standing, hitching the blanket around his waist, and Zell blinked.

"You can't keep me here," he said, but he wavered on his feet. The sleeping drug was still thick in his blood stream and he lifted a slender hand to his brow, closing those eyes who's colour matched the rain-washed sky. "I… have to g-go… home…"

The last word was a whisper and he was falling before he even took a step, but Zell was nothing if not fast and he easily caught the cowboy before he even came close to hitting the floor of the cave.

He lay Irvine down with a reproving look and gained a wide-eyed blink in return which made him smile with a possessiveness he doubted the cowboy could read in his semi-drugged state.

_Lay down_, he said with his hands at Irvine's shoulders and his eyes. _Stay there._

Zell could see the moment when the cowboy became aware that he lay under the crouching native, the soft fur of Zell's loincloth brushing gently against the rough weave of the blanket around his hips. He turned faintly red and his eyes slid away to the dance of the flames. Zell's eyes narrowed predatorily and a smirk flashed small fangs before he lowered his body a little so that something else entirely brushed the blanket.

Irvine swallowed and the faint red blazed into something nearly as bright as the flames he was watching. His eyes screwed shut and his hands fisted in the furs beneath him. But there was a tell-tale twitch beneath the blanket that Zell found entirely heartening.

- - - - - - -

_What… What's he _doin'_…? Oh, Hyne. Hyne, Hyne, Hyne…_

When Zell stilled where he was and didn't move anymore, Irvine gained the courage to look up into the sapphire gaze and he swallowed again at the intensity he saw there. His mouth worked, but he could think of nothing to say.

Suddenly, Zell's head snapped up and he was off Irvine and out of the cave before the cowboy had a chance to blink. He released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and rolled onto his side, shivering from head to toe and back up again.

"Oh, dear Hyne…" he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "I… I-I…"

He had to go home. But he couldn't stand. His legs were like jelly from a combination of whatever had been in that dart and Zell's behaviour. _Where did he go_…? Irvine wondered, blinking at the cave mouth.

Voices rose, talking hard and fast in a language Irvine couldn't understand, but he could tell they were angry.

- - - - - - -

"/You can't have him here. They'll find you./"

Zell cocked his head at the other native, then shook it, turning his back in an obvious sign of disagreement. Whipcrack lifted his head from his grazing and Zell's own bird danced on the spot while the Gayla wove around his own and his visitor's feet alternately.

"/They won't find me./"

"/You're too confidant, Zell./"

"/You're not confidant enough. At least, not in me./"

"/Do you blame me/"

"/This isn't your choice, Kiros. I'm not endangering anyone else – we're three days by chocobo from the Camp. Take them further, if you think I'm a danger. I don't care. I'll have what I want and prove to you I can do it./"

"/What if you can't? What if he turns on you/"

"/Then it won't make a difference at all to you. Go. I have to get back to him./"

Kiros curled his lip, showing his disdain, and the long Cockatrice tail-pinions he wore in his braided hair clattered softly together when he shook his head.

"/Very well, then. On your head be it./" And he was gone, as silent as Zell, if not more so.

Zell remained where he was, watching to make certain Kiros had indeed left and that there were no others waiting nearby. He gave a snort, then turned and strutted inside, his Gayla close on his heels.

"/Kiros, only/" he said soothingly, though he knew Irvine couldn't understand. "/He thinks he can still tell me what to do. Ha/"

He moved across the cave, gathering up a log and dropping it carefully into the flames after poking them back to furious life. The Gayla wafted around the edge of the fire then went to investigate Irvine who stared fit to make his eyes pop out of his head. Zell grinned.

"Jirrah," he said, pointing firmly at the Gayla.

"Is that its name, or its species…?" Irvine wondered and Zell cocked his head. "This is gonna be mighty difficult…" the cowboy sighed eventually, reaching out to touch the Gayla and making a noise of surprise when he found its hide to be velvet-soft instead of slimy or scaly.

Zell watched Jirrah chuff at Irvine's naked skin, scenting chocobos, sweat, oil, leather, gunpowder and any number of things neither his nor the cowboy's nose could hope to scent. But he wouldn't deny entertaining the idea of breathing in what he could smell of Irvine's skin himself.

Irvine's eyes soon turned to the cave mouth and he looked quite sad, so Zell moved carefully around the fire and settled on the edge of the furs, not too close, but close enough that he could reach out and touch Irvine's shoulder. The cowboy glanced at him, that same wide-eyed confusion that made Zell want him even more.

_It's alright,_ he tried to say with his eyes. _I'm here. You don't have to be lonely._

"My Ma's gonna worry," Irvine said softly, propping his elbow on his knee and his cheek in his hand. "When are you gonna let me go?"

Zell was silent, but he matched Irvine's sad look which, ironically enough, made Irvine smile slightly.

- - - - - - -

Zell was really kind of cute. Like a puppy or the liquid gaze of the cows. Irvine hoped he wouldn't leave before he fell asleep. He didn't like the dark very much, at least in strange places. It was silly, he knew, but it was some throw-back from the orphanage that he didn't really understand.

Jirrah made an odd sort of wet purring sound from somewhere in what Irvine assumed to be his chest and curled around the cowboy's naked torso. It tickled to the point where Irvine laughed, skin twitching. A series of hair-thin appendages lifted from the Gayla's underside and clung statically to Irvine's skin, holding Jirrah in place and he glanced at Zell, both of who's eyebrows were almost in his hairline.

"I think he likes me," Irvine said as the stalk-eyes flickered shut and drew inward a little. "…I can't move…" And he tried to, demonstrating his difficulty to Zell.

Zell grinned, showing a flash of straight, white teeth and… Irvine thought he saw fangs. The native shifted closer, catching his gaze, then directing with sapphire eyes that Irvine should watch him. He laid a hand to the base of Jirrah's tail, working his thumb and fingers against the white velvet in a deep massaging motion. The Gayla made the wet purring sound again and relaxed all over. The static hair-threads clinging to the cowboy's skin retracted again and Jirrah flopped off him into the men's laps.

Irvine grinned, then, highly amused and Zell gave Jirrah a shake. With a grumbling growl the stalk-eyes came back out and blinked at the native while he made shooing motions at the Gayla.

"Oh, no," Irvine said suddenly, making Zell look up and blink questioningly at him. "No, leave him. I like him." He shook his head and patted Jirrah, trying to make Zell understand what he was saying.

It didn't take long. He seemed to Irvine to be very intelligent, even if they couldn't understand each other's words. He yawned suddenly, and quickly covered it with his hand, feeling terribly rude. Zell only smiled and patted the furs.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Irvine agreed, shifting to lay down with Jirrah half beside, half draped over him.

Zell touched his hair and he bit his lower lip, uncertain what to think, but the touch smoothed out into a stroking, and Irvine's hair had always been a weak point for him. He relaxed, whether he wanted to or not, and gave a long sigh, eyes flickering shut. The native's hand undid the string holding his hair back so that he could stroke more easily and Irvine sighed again, snuggling into the soft furs beneath him.

He was asleep in moments.

- - - - - - -

Hmm… well that was an interesting point to note, Zell thought as his fingers combed through silken strands. A touch to his hair, and Irvine was anyone's. Anyone, that was, as long as it was himself.

He could still smell the girl on the cowboy's skin, sweat and female sex. He would take Irvine for a wash in the morning. The chocobos and Jirrah would like that, splashing around in the water. And so would he. He could show off for Irvine.

It was, of course, Zell's choice to make. He would have the cowboy whether the cowboy liked it or not, but he would much prefer it if Irvine wanted him in return. It wasn't necessary, truly, but Zell had heard protesting female cries from closed-up teepees and he didn't wish to hear those cries on Irvine's lips. It was other cries he would like to hear.

He shifted, crouching over Irvine's sleeping form again, and brushed the silken hair that fascinated him so much back from the cowboy's neck. He lowered his weight, not far enough to wake him, but enough to press lightly against him, face dipping close to the pale column of his neck so that Zell could breathe deep of his scent.

He smelled of chocobos, cows, leather and the oil that was thick on the saddle he used on Whipcrack. He also smelled of flowers, soap Zell assumed. He didn't have any of that.

Irvine shifted, nuzzling into the furs and he shivered slightly. Zell cocked his head a hand curving over the cowboy's shoulder, then touching his waist. His skin was cold. It was probably an after-effect of the drug. He knew that the best way to keep Irvine warm was to curl up with him, but if he woke to that, he would be terrified. Instead, Zell moved off him, ushering Jirrah closer, and pulled several of the furs around the cowboy's body. The shivering stopped and Irvine relaxed.

He would be alright here for some hours, Zell knew, and Jirrah would defend the cave mercilessly if he heard anything untoward, so he felt no worry leaving them alone there to go and hunt their breakfast before the sun set completely. One last glance to the sleeping pair, and Zell slipped out, quiet as the breeze.

- - - - - - -

"I don't see your worry, Ma'am… He's only been gone a few hours longer than he should've been. We all know Irvine…" The sheriff trailed off at the blank look on Mrs. Wentworth's face. "You have no idea what I mean, do you…?"

"…N-no… not really, Sheriff. I… don't know what you're implying…"

The sheriff tipped his tan hat back on his head, eyes sliding away from hers, then back.

"There's no polite way to put it, Ma'am. Irvine's no tender milkmaid. I would swear up and down he's spent an hour or three in a haystack with almost every eligible young lass in town and the surrounding ranches."

She stared at him, eyes wide, and toyed with the hankie she held in her strong, weather-beaten hands.

"_My_ Irvine…?"

"Yessirree, Ma'am. The one and only."

"Sheriff-"

"Call me Seifer, Ma'am."

She looked at him like he'd grown a second head or said something utterly unbelievable, then cleared her throat.

"Sheriff, I don't know what you think you've heard about my son, but he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't spend an entire night away from home without telling me he was going to first."

"I've heard nothing, I've _seen_ it. He leaves the saloon with a different girl every night he's down here."

There was a stubborn set to her chin that Seifer had learned to be afraid of with ranch women. They were more stubborn than the goats some of them farmed, and he braced himself for a tongue-lashing. But she deflated almost in the next heartbeat.

"Listen, Sheriff, I don't know where he is, but I know he wouldn't disappear like that. He'd want to feed Whipcrack right, if nothing else, and he didn't take any feed or greens with him. You've got to go and look for him."

Seifer straightened behind his desk, sticking his thumbs in his waistband and giving a sigh.

"I don't _have_ to do anything, Ma'am."

He was new to the town _still_. They still treated him like an outsider, despite the fact he'd been their sheriff for nearly six moths now. They behaved as though he didn't know anything. At all. Even about how he was supposed to do his job. He'd caught a cattle rustler, and they _still_ didn't trust him.

"No…" she said warily, resignedly. "No, I suppose you don't, _Sheriff_." The way she said it made it sound like a vile swear word and he winced, then sighed.

"Ma'am, I'm not saying something hasn't gone wrong, I'm just saying let's at least give him a few hours to show his nose. If he is…" _Fucking._ "…busy, he won't want to be disturbed."

She sighed, nodding.

"I can see your point, Sheriff."

_Thank Hyne._

"Thank you, Ma'am. If he still hasn't turned up by sunup tomorrow, c'mon over and tell me. We'll do everything we can to find him."

She nodded, those cornflower-blue eyes turning away from him momentarily. He was struck again by how much her eyes looked like Irvine's, even though they weren't related. After talking for a while, he and Irvine had realised they came from the same place, as did Selphie, and it struck them how uncanny it was that the three of them had ended up here. Seifer surmised that, since Irvine and Selphie had come with their families, it had been to get away from their original towns, where people knew they had adopted their children.

He had come here because he was tired of the larger towns and never getting a moment's peace. Here, the crime rate was far lower and there were less drunken brawls for him to break up. The men here seemed to come to the edge of blows, then just back off and return to laughing together.

"I'm sorry if I got upset with you, Sheriff," she said suddenly, snapping him out of his reverie.

"I understand, Ma'am. Hopefully, I won't see your pretty face in the morning."

She smiled at him, but he could see the fear in her eyes and she left very reluctantly.

Seifer sighed and shook his head, dragging his hat from his golden hair. This whole thing made him uneasy. She was right. It wasn't like Irvine. But by the same token, he wasn't about to go haring out into the wilderness on a hunch. He'd learned to trust his instincts, but only within reason.

Eli had already ridden along the path Irvine had taken. Leanne had told him that much. The man had found nothing, except that their son had made it to the O'Learys' and headed off again. Seifer planned to head out there himself when his day was done and he could leave his deputy in charge. He'd rather have a look around on his own then end up with a posse on his heels. One of them would be formed, no doubt, if Irvine really had gone missing, but Seifer preferred to be alone first.

"Ah, cowboy, you've gone and got me in trouble without even trying, and I haven't even breathed a word about why I can't keep my eyes off you…"

Which was, of course, another reason he had left his last town.

- - - - - - -

(1) Sure, one of these could be tamed. I don't know! But hey! If the Australian Aborigines can tame dingoes and the American Indians can tame wolves, then why can't this guy tame a Gayla, I say.

(1a) Conversation which resulted when I told Hicky about the Gayla:

Hicky: Because it has the word "gay" in it…?

Me: No… because I thought it would be trainable as opposed to something like a Death Claw or a Funguar, and at least it doesn't look like a toadstool on steroids.

Hicky: And the fact that it was GAYla had nothing to do with it.

Me: No. I never noticed. I focused on what it looks like.

Hicky: Wow. The yaoi juices really weren't flowing there.

Me: Hello! Nearly-naked native! I think that's pretty yaoi-juicy.

Hicky: Yeah… but… GAYla…

Me: …I seriously didn't notice…

Until she mentioned it anyway. Now every time I say anything about the damn critter, it's all I can think about! dies

Author's Notes: So, who guessed it? Huh, huh! Anyone? Did _anyone_ know it was going to be Zell! I mean… _aside_ from Hicky and I! Or did I fool you all? grins


	3. Wet

Warnings: Shounen-ai, yaoi, slash, however you want to classify it, bad language, a Gayla… That's about it.

Pairing: I think you can guess.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to Final Fantasy 8, but I do own Jirrah, Shir'nis, Whipcrack (their personalities at least) and this plot. I don't do this for profit, so don't sue me, because all I have is a numb butt (from this uni comp chair) and several used bus tickets.

Author's Notes: I hate uni. I hate Bendigo, wherein I attend uni. It is cold, it is wet, and did I mention, it is cold? I do not, however, hate this fic. I love it. I especially love Jirrah. If anyone feels inclined to make me a Jirrah-plushie go right ahead. ;)

As before, anything marked /thus/ is native-speak.

**_Mine._****_ – _**_KittyMeowMaxwell_

_Chapter Three – Wet._

Irvine stirred very slowly the next morning and snuggled deeper inside the soft, earthy-smelling furs, feeling Jirrah's little static-cling hairs all up his stomach and chest. The Gayla gave off an enormous amount of heat and Irvine thought he could quite happily drift off again, so warm and soft was his new bed.

But curiosity worried at his mind as well and he soon opened his eyes to see if Zell was around. He remembered falling asleep last night with the native's hand warm and gentle in his hair.

The fire was banked, still glowing, and Zell was nowhere to be seen, but Irvine found his interest taken by the various things around the cave. There was a row of new-looking darts along one wall, laid out on the cave floor. They weren't feathered yet, so Irvine supposed that must be a job Zell hadn't done yet. A bow hung on an exposed root, a quiver of chocobo-feathered arrows set below it. Several woven, extremely beautiful rugs softened the rough walls. There was only one fur on the other side of the glowing coals, and Irvine wondered at the fact that the native had only used the one, while he left an entire pile of them for him.

Nowhere could he see his clothes or his gun.

A low wark sounded outside, and Irvine recognised it.

"Whipcrack," he whispered.

He stroked his hand down Jirrah's spine, and mimicked the massage Zell had showed him the evening before. It took him longer to do it just right, but eventually the Gayla made his unique purring sound and retracted the static hairs. Irvine chuckled and slipped out of the furs, leaving Jirrah wrapped up tight. He took just one for himself, a huge, soft Snow Lion pelt. He'd only seen one before, and he would never forget how it shifted from blinding white to ice-blue in different lights. He'd seen it in an exceedingly rich rancher's entryway when his father had taken him there on business. He wondered how Zell got this one. It was terribly warm, he thought as he drew it around his shoulders and snuggled into it. The rough blanket he gladly left behind.

He still shivered in the fresh cold of the morning, mist swirling around his bare feet and dampening his loosed hair. But… he felt a freedom that was strange to him. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't even lonely. The wilderness sang to him and he relished the realisation that there would be no chores and especially no cows today.

Whipcrack warked madly when he caught sight of the cowboy and Irvine grinned, heading over to the golden bird. He held the fur tight around himself with one hand and lifted the other to rub vigorously between Whipcrack's eyes, the way he really liked it. The bird gave a long, soft kweh from the back of his throat, eyes half-closing, and Irvine laughed.

"Yeah, darlin'. I'm still here. You sure look happy enough."

There came a hard nudge at his back and Irvine looked over his shoulder, blinking several times when his eyes lit on what could only be Zell's chocobo. No chocobo Irvine had ever seen had been anything but canary-yellow, but this one was all white and brown patches.

"Well aren't you the pretty thing?" he said, transferring his hand to the other bird's forehead.

Whipcrack didn't like that and he protested vocally, nipping at Irvine's hair.

"Hey, you. Listen here. You can just be patient."

Irvine studied the two-coloured chocobo, judging by the size of its crest and the feathers of its tail that it was a female. (1) Whipcrack actually _pulled_, then, and Irvine yelped.

"Whipcrack! You're _askin__'_ for it. She's a lady. That means you oughta do the gentlemanly thing and let her get all the attention! I'd pat both of you, but then I'd be, like, standin' here naked, 'cause I'd have no hand to hold the fur with!"

Zell's chocobo made a soft sound suddenly and slipped away from him. Irvine turned, following her with his eyes and found the native standing there, watching him. He smiled, a little hesitant. He still wasn't sure what Zell was going to do. Maybe his captor – such as he was – wouldn't be pleased that Irvine had left the cave.

He didn't seem upset, though. He simply lifted a hand, indicating the bird who was nipping affectionately at the feathers in his hair.

"Shir'nis," he said.

"That's her name?"

Zell cocked his head and pointed to Irvine's chocobo.

"Whipcrack," he said, which surprised Irvine, because he knew he hadn't told the native his chocobo's name. Then Zell was pointing to the female again. "Shir'nis."

"Yes! Good. That's her name. She's gorgeous. I've never seen one like that before."

Zell smiled, then came over and touched Irvine's fingers where they held the fur closed at the front. Irvine blinked, confused. When Zell started to pry his fingers open, one by one, he flushed and backed away two steps, only to get a cocked head and blinking sapphire eyes. Then, Zell turned and started off the way he had come, pausing to look over his shoulder when Irvine didn't follow. There was another tattoo spread over his left shoulder-blade.

_Well. Come on,_ his eyes said.

Irvine blinked some more, but his curiosity was piqued, so he followed, footsteps light in the dawn hush. Compared to Zell's, however, he sounded like a herd of chocobos charging in for their feed. The man was as bare-foot as Irvine was, but there was _no_ sound from his feet.

Zell lead him through trees more dense than he was used to, the shelter and slightly wetter climate provided by the lower reaches of these mountains providing the necessary elements for better growth. Irvine looked around, finding a still beauty in the forest that was like the beauty he found in the sunset. Then they stepped through the tree-line and into a clearing.

Irvine gasped, and that seemed to amuse Zell. They had come to a lake of the clearest water the cowboy had ever seen. A slow trickling waterfall burbled down several levels of cliffside to make its leisurely way into the lake which steamed in the cool air. Irvine could only surmise it was also fed from somewhere underground, water heated by nature's design. He'd heard of hot-springs before, but never seen one.

Zell wasted no time unlacing his one scrap of clothing and putting it aside before he stepped fearlessly into the water, but Irvine was slower. With any other man, he wouldn't hesitate to hop on in, but this man, this native, had already behaved strangely and the water would afford no obscurity whatsoever. It was clear as crystal. Irvine could see all the way to Zell's feet, despite the fact that he was, by now, in chest-deep.

When he realised Irvine wasn't moving, Zell turned.

- - - - - - -

Zell, for his part, couldn't fathom why on earth the cowboy was standing there as though he were afraid Zell were going to leap on him and swallow him whole. Well, he thought, he was. But he wasn't so rude as to do so now, and besides, he couldn't breathe well enough underwater to make any sort of swallowing possible or enjoyable for either of them.

He saw Irvine studying him – _all_ of him – and that much was good, but he knew the cowboy would still smell of the girl, and he couldn't have that. He would take the pelt and throw Irvine in if he had to. The water was warm, it felt good to be in. Couldn't the cowboy understand that…?

Zell cocked his head, because the movement had seemed to work so far, and he lifted a hand out of the steaming water, beckoning. He saw Irvine swallow and take a step forward, but still he hesitated.

As much as he looked exceedingly delectable standing there on the bank with fog and steam wafting around him and his hair shifting slightly in a gentle breeze, Zell was getting impatient. Irvine wasn't playing by the rules. Ah! But! Here, he had to be careful. Irvine didn't _know_ the rules. He must remember that. This was no member of his own people, but a different man who needed to be educated.

Zell came forward and strode out of the water, knowing the way it sluiced off his body complimented him perfectly. He went to Irvine with a no-nonsense gait, an easy grace to his movements that he caught the cowboy watching. There was a knowledge there. An understanding in those sky-eyes that there was something he was missing, something he didn't know about, but felt. Irvine understood that much.

Zell wanted to kiss him, because the way he stood with his lips slightly parted and his hair framing his face silently begged for it. But not yet. Not _just_ yet. Zell could be patient. He would be.

It was easy to make Irvine let go of the fur. All Zell had to do was take hold of the blue-white and tug it away from the gripping fingers. The cowboy was no match for his strength. He dropped the pelt pointedly to pool around Irvine's feet and made sure to flex his muscles, showing off shamelessly. Impressing Irvine was very important. He gave the cowboy's hand a tug in the direction of the lake, then strutted off himself, diving in this time, his body one smooth line.

_Yes. Watch me. I _am_ strong and powerful._

Irvine finally followed, stepping slowly into the water as Zell surfaced, his hair now hanging in his face. Zell smiled and the cowboy smiled back, hesitant, but curious. Curiosity, Zell thought, would be what kept Irvine here above all else. If he could continue to show new things and new places, the cowboy would want to stay, and the longer he stayed, the more Zell would be able to coax understanding from him.

For he must understand, eventually, that he _belonged_ to Zell.

And if he did leave, then Zell would bring him back, no matter how long he had to wait for another opportunity to do so. Again and again, until he understood.

_Come_, Zell said with his eyes and his hands. _Come to me._

Again, Irvine hesitated, but Zell supposed that was only natural. After all, he was imposing and dangerous. But he would never hurt the cowboy. He smiled reassuringly when Irvine started towards to him, and found that there was a ready smile for _him_ on the other man's lips. Already, he was responding.

"You look different," Irvine said – he seemed to feel some need to fill any silence or still moment with speech. It seemed to make him nervous if no one spoke. "With your hair down, I mean."

And he reached out and touched it. Zell let him. He would let Irvine do anything, as long as it wasn't leaving or going to someone else. After a moment, Zell returned the favour, smoothing his fingers through Irvine's hair like he had the night before.

Irvine's eyes flickered half-shut and his hand fell back to his side. Zell liked that. He liked being able to reduce the cowboy to nothing but reactions with a mere touch of his hand. He wanted more, but he reminded himself again that he must be patient. Still…

"/I want to make you mine, Irvine. I want you to know it. I want everyone to know it, so no one else may touch you, especially females. Especially the one you're washing away now./"

Irvine frowned, obviously wondering what Zell was saying, and his eyes opened again. He knew whatever it was, he was being spoken directly to. Of course he could understand his own name, in among the other words Zell used.

"/It's alright. It's better this way. I can say whatever I want to without frightening you off./"

He smiled and the cowboy gave him one in return, though it was a little uncertain.

"/Ah! I want to kiss you. You're too beautiful for words./"

Zell lowered his hand and stepped back, before his body got the better of his iron control. He didn't even attempt to hide his slow examination of everything the cowboy had to offer. When his eyes came back to Irvine's, there was a mixture there of nervousness and uncertainty, hope and fear. Zell grinned. His pretty cowboy _wanted_ to be wanted, whether he was consciously aware of it or not.

They both looked over to the bank at the sound of a splash. It was Shir'nis, tailed closely by Jirrah. The chocobo went right under until there was nothing of her above the water, then she broke the surface, shaking her head-feathers free of water before she strode over to them. Jirrah was more graceful. He slid into the water with barely a ripple and his body waved along under the clear surface until he could wrap himself around Irvine and climb up his body.

"/Ai. He likes you/" Zell said, with a rueful grin, but Irvine wasn't listening. He had found a way to make the Gayla _laugh_. Or at least, something like a laugh.

He was tickling at the junction between fin and neck and the wet purr Jirrah usually made was broken into a series of short sounds remarkably like laughter. Zell watched them, head cocked. Even he had never discovered this quirk. He wondered, suddenly, if Irvine were ticklish…

- - - - - - -

Irvine couldn't stop laughing at Jirrah, especially when his tickling resulted in the Gayla letting go and falling into the water with a _plash_ far less graceful than his previous entry. Shir'nis came to see what was so funny and then grew jealous that Jirrah was getting all the attention. She began to nip at Irvine's hair, trying to gain his attention.

Zell appeared, then, shooing both animals, and they went, content to chase each other around in the water. The sharpshooter couldn't help but smile at him. There was a magnetism to him that Irvine had already felt, but became acutely aware of with the native standing there completely devoid of clothing and with the intent look of study on his face he often seemed to wear. He was so wild and dangerous. When Irvine let himself think about it, it made his breath catch and his stomach do a strange flip-and-dip that left his libido stirring gently.

That scared him. No one should react to a man like that unless they were a woman, and Irvine certainly wasn't a woman.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Zell's hands came to his sides, and before he could open his mouth to ask what was going on, the native began to tickle him.

"Oh! N-no! Zell! Quit it!" he cried, kicking and squirming already, laughter on his lips.

Zell only grinned and tickled more.

"Zell! Oh, Hyne, no! Quiiit it!"

Irvine thrashed in the water, finally getting a foot against Zell's thigh and pushing himself away. He turned over in the water and fled across the crystal warmth, hearing Zell leap into instant pursuit. He laughed merrily, and heard the native's laugh join his own, which only made him want to laugh more – so he did, swimming as fast as he could.

He made it to a rock jutting up out of the steaming water and started to scramble up it, but Zell's strong hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him back in with an almighty splash, arms going around his waist and hands tickling at his sides again. He squirmed and wriggled against the native's water-slick skin, several times convinced he was almost free, only to have Zell readjust his grip and hold him the tighter.

Eventually, Irvine gave up struggling and hung in Zell's arms, panting and giggling alternately. He found the random bursts of giggles that escaped him terribly embarrassing, but found he couldn't stop them, because Zell was _still_ tickling.

"Mercy," he begged. "Mercy, mercy. I _know_ you can't understand me, but _mercy_!" he managed, nearly out of breath.

Thankfully, Zell stopped and Irvine could finally relax, forehead against a strong shoulder.

"Evil," he accused. "You're evil."

Zell let him go and patted his head, grinning, then climbed up on the rock Irvine had tried to escape to. Irvine followed, but the native gave his shoulder a light push and he fell back again, surfacing with a splutter and a mock-glare. Zell grinned mischievously. That turned into another game, where they each attempted to shove each other off the rock or get onto it. Zell won more often than not, and that seemed to please him. Certainly, he spent a lot of time posing atop the rock and showing off his – admittedly quite impressive – muscles.

Finally, Irvine found himself a hand-hold that couldn't be shifted and managed to cling to the rock for long enough that Zell got bored with the game and dove back into the water, striking out towards where Irvine's fur lay. The sharpshooter perched where he was, watching the way the water flowed over Zell's body, and then ran free of it when he strode out. He caught himself licking his lips and forced his eyes to look elsewhere, flushing.

His heart was beating a little faster and he shivered. That, he could put down to a gentle breeze teasing at his wet skin, but even he knew that was a flimsy excuse. But, an excuse for what? What was going on?

Zell turned towards him as he tied the loincloth around his hips and seemed surprised to find that he was still perched on the rock. He beckoned to the cowboy and then stood, hands on hips, quite obviously expecting to be obeyed. He was an arrogant man if nothing else. Irvine felt somewhat like a pet or a damned chocobo.

_He rides his chocobo…_ some snide little part of his mind reminded him and that stir deep in his belly shifted again. He flushed and dove quickly into the water to hide it, swimming over to the bank and scrambling out. Zell offered the fur again and Irvine gladly took it, wrapping it around his body and snuggling into it. The native smiled indulgently, then turned and headed off through the trees.

Irvine found his gaze drawn by the flex of muscle beneath lightly tanned skin. It made his mouth go dry. He couldn't keep from smiling, because the prospect of a few days with Zell was far more appealing than the prospect of cow-chores.

- - - - - - -

Seifer wasn't at all surprised when Irvine's mother turned up on the doorstep the next morning. He had nothing to tell her, though. He had suspicions, but nothing concrete.

He'd gone up to have a look around, and found chocobo tracks, but that was to be expected. Irvine had been on his bird, and Eli had ridden up there as well. He'd found a few more tracks off the path, in the foliage, and a few stray brown and white feathers, which made his eyes narrow. He knew the natives had chocobos that weren't golden. But what possible reason could one of them have for taking Irvine? Besides, there were other things with feathers.

There was no sign of shooting or a scuffle and barely any broken foliage, so what had happened?

Seifer had ridden back to town with the nagging suspicion that it had been one of the natives, but no way to prove it and no motive. However, he wasn't about to tell Leanne this.

"He still hasn't turned up, Ma'am?" he wondered slowly, drawing out a chair for her like the gentleman he was. She refused it, and remained standing.

"No indeed he hasn't, Sheriff. I'm fair going out of my mind with worry!" She wrung her hands, stepping nervously from foot to foot and Seifer felt for her. He knew how awful she must feel.

"I went on up there last night, Ma'am," he told her. "I didn't find anything helpful, but I'm thinking we might have to get a search party going. Doesn't sound like Irvine to lose control of his chocobo, but maybe something spooked Whipcrack real bad. That's the only thing I can think of." _Liar_. "They might both be somewhere up the track, hurt."

She nodded, blue eyes wide.

"I'll sort a couple of boys and we'll head out after lunch. Shouldn't be too hard to find him, I reckon," he reassured her, though he wasn't so sure himself.

"Thank you, Sheriff."

"Please, Ma'am, call me Seifer. I'm not so much older than your boy."

She smiled at him, then turned and headed out, but paused at the door, turning to look over her shoulder.

"If you need anything, lunch packed or drinks or anything, just call by our place on your way out, Seifer. Won't take me two minutes to get something ready for you."

He tipped his hat, nodding to her.

"Thank you kindly, Ma'am. Might just take you up on that."

She returned his nod, then headed out and he flopped into his chair, passing a hand across his emerald eyes. Where in the hell could that damned cowboy be? He had no _reason_ to stray from the path, and Seifer knew he was pretty much flat-out lying to the woman. There was still that suspicion in the back of his mind, but it had no grounding, and always it came back to reason. What reason would any native have for taking Irvine? The cowboy had never been aggressive towards them. In fact, Seifer was fairly certain he had _never_ been near them.

"Seifer…?"

He looked up as his deputy stepped in the door, sweeping a black hat much like Irvine's off dust-caked brunette locks. He ran gloved fingers through the unruly mess, so much dust falling from it that the poor man coughed.

"I gather the trip to and from the Bennet place was pretty dry, then…?" Seifer teased, smirking despite himself.

"Bastard…" the man muttered, then nodded. "Yeah, dry. And there wasn't anything out there. I swear that woman only sends her boy down here to get one of us so she can bat her lashes and make suggestions about haystacks…"

Seifer snorted, standing and heading over to a low table to pour his deputy and friend a mug of beer. It was accepted gratefully and half-drained before attention turned back to conversation.

"Well," Seifer remarked. "You _do_ have a nice arse, after all, Leonhart."

The man just looked at him, clearly unimpressed.

He was the fourth of their little orphanage to end up here, but he had come with Seifer, so the blonde figured that wasn't _quite_ so creepy. Still, the fact that they had run into one another in the first place was creepy enough. He supposed they must just be drawn together because they'd grown up together so early. He wondered to himself often if anyone _else_ from that band was going to appear.

"Watch your mouth, Almasy, or someone'll hear you."

"It's just you 'n' me, Squall. No one'll hear."

"That's what you said last time," Squall pointed out softly, storm-cloud eyes troubled.

"I'll be more careful," Seifer promised, relenting. "Listen, we've got to go look for Irvine."

"He still not back?"

"No, and his Ma's awful worried."

"And I'm sure she's the _only_ one…"

"Shut up, Squall. I need you to grab Bobby and Dylan for me. At least those two have sensible heads on their shoulders. We might be gone a while, so best let that clinging thing you reckon is your girl know."

Squall shot him a filthy look, but he only shrugged.

"What? She's fucking annoying and you can do better."

"Like with you, maybe?"

"No! Hyne, I've been down that path before. Bad idea, wanting a guy with different preferences. Just find a decent girl."

"You just don't like her because she's sugary and sweet and you like your 'girls' with a bit of fight and muscle."

"No, I don't like her because she's a whiny, annoying, spoilt little bitch."

"Seifer!"

"It's true. Ten to one says she whines when you tell her you'll be out late tonight."

"She doesn't _whine_."

"Oh, you can't be serious!" Seifer scoffed, shaking his head. "She's about as whiny as they come."

"I'm this close to hitting you, Sheriff."

Seifer snorted again and shook his head, then layered his voice with mock-sweetness, clasping his hands and batting his lashes.

"_Do_ tell Rinoa I said hello, _Squally_. And that I'd be simply _delighted_ to see her again sometime."

"Fuck, you're an arsehole…" Squall muttered. One thing he did hate about Rinoa was that pet name. But he found Seifer's tendency to pick on Rinoa a helluvalot more annoying than Rinoa herself… Although… she did have a habit of-

He shook those thoughts out of his head and went to rustle up Bobby and Dylan – after he'd gone to see Rinoa, that was.

Seifer watched him go with a smirk and a shake of his head. Surely it could only be a matter of time before the quiet brunette got sick of Rinoa's effusive _loudness_. Besides, to his reasoning, so pretty an arse as the one Squall Leonhart possessed shouldn't belong to a woman.

"Ah, Almasy," he muttered, running his gloved hand through his hair. "Don't even think it. You've been down that road before, and you know where it ended. You're damned lucky the man's still your friend."

Still… it _was_ such a pretty arse…

So was Irvine's, for that matter, but Seifer was pretty damn sure there'd be no luck on that front, either. At least not the way Irvine bedded women – at such a rate anyone would think they were going to vanish off the face of the planet and the cowboy was storing up experiences for when it happened.

He hated being the way he was…

With a sigh, Seifer headed out, locking the jail behind him. Hopefully nothing too drastic would occur while they were busy looking for Irvine, but he wasn't too worried. Half the time, he went whole days without being called for. Both his and Squall's birds were already saddled, so all he needed to do was untie them from the tether-rail outside, vault into his chocobo's saddle and lead Squall's to the center of town where he was pretty sure his deputy would gravitate.

What he didn't expect was the ten other men riding behind Dylan and Bobby who were riding behind a scowling, stalking Squall Leonhart.

"What the hell…?" Seifer wondered under his breath as they approached.

Squall swung into the saddle and leaned over, keeping his voice low.

"I couldn't get them to understand that we don't _need_ a fucking posse. I swear they'd have lynched me if I tried any longer to tell them no."

Seifer sighed hard enough to make the two stubborn locks of hair that always refused to remain under his hat lift, then nudged his bird, Knightly, past Squall, Dylan and Bobby to face down the mob of ten men.

"Gentlemen, much as we appreciate your help, w-"

"Ain't no way we're turnin' 'round and ridin' back home, Sheriff. If Irvine done taken a fall from his chocobo, might take more'n four men to bring him on back."

_How could it take more than four men to bring back one!_ Seifer wondered hotly, but he kept his mouth shut – for the moment. He wasn't a patient man.

"Really, if we need help, one of us can ride back for it," the Sheriff pointed out reasonably.

"Might take too long 'n' Irvine'll be bleedin' to bloody death in the meantime."

_Oh sweet gods… Men are _stupid_! Why do they want to come along!_

"We're capable of handling this," Seifer said, steel lacing his words.

They barely hesitated.

"Are y'just? We still ain't s' sure've that."

Seifer's temper snapped and his fingers tapped warningly against the grip of his pistol.

"I don't reckon I care what you are and aren't sure of, _sir_," he said with a cool calmness that made them all reign their chocobos a step backward. "We won't be requiring your help, and if you do follow us, I won't hesitate to throw every one of you in the lock-up for the night. Am I clear?"

They said nothing, but they didn't try to follow when Seifer turned his bird and led the other three men off.

Squall pulled up beside him, a slight grin threatening to break the front he put up of not caring or reacting.

"I think you might've made yourself an enemy, Seif. That big fella leading them didn't look too impressed at all."

"I don't give a shit, Squall. Whether they like it or not, _I'm_ in charge of the law here, and I'm not going to let them walk all over me."

"Good," Squall agreed and they set off to begin their search.

- - - - - - -

(1) "Wow!" all the readers said. "Kitty sure can bullshit. First the Gayla and it's hair-cling things, now the sex of the chocobo!"

"Yes," Kitty agreed. "I can bullshit. And it's my fic, so I have whatever poetic license I want. Ha!"

Author's Notes: Woo! On with the hotness! I love writing native-Zell so much. XD He's so arrogant.


	4. Weighed

Warnings: Language, yaoi (duh), strange native behaviour, odd Gayla stuff…

Disclaimer: Don't own FF8, do own the plot, don't make money, blah blah…

Pairings: If you haven't guessed by now, shame on you.

Author's Notes: Sorry it's been a while. I've been busy with uni and teaching rounds etc etc. This chapter is a page shorter than usual, but that's because the next section is five pages long, which would have made the chapter _too_ long. Anyways! Enjoy!

As before, anything marked /like so/ is native speak.

_**Mine. – **KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Four – Weighed._

They ate – Irvine wasn't game to ask what they were eating, if Zell would even understand him anyway – and then the native sat to fletch arrows and darts, on the floor with his powerful legs crossed lotus-style. His loincloth formed itself to his shape and often, Irvine found himself glancing there.

He was sure Zell had caught him at it more than once.

The native didn't follow when Irvine went to relieve himself, but his eyes did until the cowboy was out of sight, and it sent a flush from the base of his neck to his toes. He didn't understand why just a look from those sapphire eyes could make him shiver.

He was glad to be out of the cave for a while, but he daren't stay out too long. Who knew when Zell would come out and find him with the fur gone from around his body. Not only had he found it physically impossible to do what he needed to do whilst holding the fur around himself, but it was getting warmer as the day wore on, and the light mountain breeze kissing his sweat-slick skin was very welcome.

When he was done, he spent about ten minutes figuring a way to fasten the fur around his hips so that it saved his privacy, but he wouldn't have to hold it up. When he returned to the cave, he reasoned, he would try and get the native to give him back his clothing.

Then, as he was returning, Irvine spied Whipcrack. The bird still wore his bridle, because Zell had used it to tie him to the tree, and Irvine had ridden bare-back before. Granted, he didn't fancy returning to cow-chores, but his mother must be worried… And _he_ was worried… about the confusing reactions he seemed to have to the blonde in the cave. He had to get away, and what better time than now?

He crept quietly over to Whipcrack, shh'ing the chocobo when he warbled happily and began to nip at the freed auburn hair. He untied the reins and flicked them easily back over Whipcrack's crest. The bird began to dance excitedly – he knew what signaled a ride.

Irvine had to lead him close by a rock so he could climb upon Whipcrack's back, but that was accomplished easily enough and he clicked (1) his tongue softly, guiding the chocobo to turn with a gentle touch to the reins and shift of his knees. Whipcrack turned and headed off.

The longer they went without Zell appearing, the more confidant Irvine became. He was going home.

- - - - - - -

Zell wasn't overly concerned when the cowboy left the cave. It must be boring for him to sit there and watch like that, and besides, every man had business to take care of. As time wore on, however, his attention began to wander from the fletching and his eyes began to flick to the cave entrance.

Where was Irvine?

When Shir'nis stuck her head in the cave and warbled lowly, clacking her beak in a manner he had long ago come to associate with concern or worry, he stood and stalked out.

Whipcrack was gone.

He snarled, showing his teeth, and quickly climbed onto Shir'nis' back courtesy of her bent knees and offered wing. He let her take him, giving her no guidance with legs or light touch, because she could surely follow Whipcrack's scent far more easily than he could track their passage.

"/Foolish cowboy! Doesn't he see what trouble he could get himself into/" Zell lamented. "/He doesn't know how to survive out here, and what if Kiros or one of the others should find him? They won't hesitate to kill him for being on our lands. Ah, ah, ah! Not good./"

Shir'nis made a repeated, soft _kweh_ and Zell shut up. The chocobo automatically lightened her step and her head cocked. He heard it too, the snap of twigs and _shh-hiss_ of branches touched and displaced by passage. He narrowed his eyes. The willful cowboy would be taught a lesson.

Zell and Shir'nis swung around in a wide circle, easily able to judge their position in relation to Whipcrack and Irvine by the dreadful noise they were making. The cowboy probably thought they were being quiet.

It must have been quite a shock, Zell thought, when he and Shir'nis suddenly appeared out of the trees _right in front_ of the fleeing pair. But he had no time to worry about that sort of thing. Not now. He took advantaged of the shock that stopped Irvine in his tracks, kneeing Shir'nis forward so that he could snatch hold of Whipcrack's reins.

"/Let go/" Zell demanded and the authority in his voice must have been enough to convey the meaning, because the cowboy's slender fingers released the strip of leather.

Zell flicked the reins over Whipcrack's crest and wrapped them around his hand, then wheeled Shir'nis and set off at a swift trot. Irvine said nothing. He sat his chocobo (2) in silence, and when Zell glanced back, he had his head bowed, that stunning hair forming a curtain to hide his face. It was a submissive posture, a wordless acknowledgement that he could do nothing at the moment to deny the native's rules. It made Zell straighten on his chocobo's back and puff his chest out.

He drew Whipcrack forward, alongside Shir'nis, and guided his own chocobo closer to Irvine's so that their knees brushed. The fur having been moved to cover only half Irvine's body was an improvement, but the cowboy would take a loincloth when they returned to the cave, if Zell had to hold him down and force it around his slim hips. He looked up when Zell's leg brushed his, and his eyes were a mixture of sorrow and eagerness.

Zell cocked his head.

- - - - - -

From the moment Zell caught him, Irvine pondered what it meant that he wasn't overly upset the native had followed and stopped his 'escape'. There were mixed, confused feelings, but he could pick them out. Upset. He _was_ upset his mother wouldn't know where he was. Fear. What was Zell going to do with him? Frustration. Why couldn't he get free? Where was his gun? Why didn't he _want_ to try harder? He _should_ want to. Anger. Where did the native get off dragging him out here anyway? Eagerness. He wanted to spend more time with Zell.

It was a huge confusion of feelings and Irvine didn't like it.

Then Zell's leg brushed against his and he glanced up, finding his gaze caught and held by the native's. There was such an animal strength and wildness about him, that he took Irvine's breath away. He was unlike any man the cowboy had ever met before. He would take what he wanted and no one – least of all Irvine – better dare to argue with him. There was selfishness, too.

Those lips curved into a grin, the tattoo down the side of his face shifting, and he reached out to stroke the fur along Irvine's thigh. Irvine would swear he could feel the heat of the man's hand through the thick pelt. There was a stirring between his legs and he flushed, dragging his eyes away from Zell's.

The native's hand slipped free, but he remained beside the cowboy and their legs brushed often. Irvine had a feeling Zell was _making_ them do that.

Irvine was knowledgeable enough to recognise the reaction of his body for what it was, but that was a feeling reserved for women. He shouldn't be reacting like that to a _man_, least of all _this_ man. Irvine snuck another peek at Zell, thankful when those sapphire eyes were looking straight ahead. He studied the native, from broad shoulders to tapered waist to those powerful legs. Irvine had never thought a man could be so completely made of muscle. Even he, through all the heavy lifting and fighting with yet-to-be-broken chocobos, and muscling cows into flea-dips and harvesting greens by hand, was not quite so muscled. Every movement Zell made, something flexed. The cowboy felt a sudden need to stroke his palms over the tanned skin and feel the flex-and-relax beneath them.

He licked his lips, and 'stirring' barely covered the response between his legs at that thought. He quickly looked away, ducking his head and forcing himself to calm down.

Oh, Hyne, what was happening?

He was glad when they reached the cave, if only because it gave him something to do in climbing off Whipcrack's back and tying him to a tree branch. He didn't need to look at Zell to know that he would be sent inside, so he went and curled up on his side on the furs, hiding his face. He heard Zell enter and squeezed his eyes shut, all manner of 'punishments' flashing through his head.

There were movement sounds, cloth against cloth, and then he smelled the native close by and heard him lower his body to the furs. A hand smoothed through his hair and Irvine couldn't help but relax slightly. Zell lightly touched his eyelids and it was easy enough for the cowboy to understand the unspoken command. He opened his eyes.

Zell offered him a loincloth.

Irvine could only stare for a long moment, then he sat bolt-upright, dislodging the fingers from his hair. His hands when possessively to the fur about his hips – at least it covered more than _that_ thing! A golden brow went up and the native pushed the issue, holding the scrap of cloth closer to Irvine.

"No," Irvine shook his head. "I ain't wearin' that!"

The other brow went up and Zell did _not_ look impressed.

"I don't care what _you_ think, I ain't wearin' it!"

The cowboy fisted his hands tighter in the fur, prepared to fight for it if he had to, and the smile slipped and faltered on Zell's face. He gestured once more with the Torama-hide loincloth, and when Irvine still shook his head, he pounced. That was the _only_ word the cowboy could think of to describe it – he pounced.

Irvine found himself on his back, one leg hooked over his chest, another pinning his hips down. Zell pried his fingers free of the fur, ignoring his protests, and opened it. The cowboy shuddered when Zell's tongue touched one of his little fangs and he gently cradled Irvine's length. The cowboy's breath came panting and ragged and he watched the native slowly tilt his head, lids lowering slightly. His hand shifted, but it was a strange movement – a weighing, Irvine's short-circuited brain managed to supply. He was being measured, then Zell met his eyes and gave a languid smirk, and Irvine suddenly _knew._

_You belong to me,_ the twin sapphires stated. _This… _this_ belongs to _me._ Remember._

Then Zell's hand slipped away and the pair of them took on the task of fastening the loincloth around Irvine's hips.

He didn't fight it. He was too busy fighting his body. It screamed at him, and he didn't know what it wanted, what _he_ wanted. Men weren't supposed to… It… it was supposed to be for a man and a woman… Not… not…

But the fire in his belly and the stirring between his legs was for no woman. It was for this man. This wild, fierce, dangerous man. He couldn't let it get the better of him, he couldn't let himself feel these things… It was just… just… _wrong_.

Zell backed off when he'd tied the cloth, admiring his handiwork. Irvine sat up, running a hand through his unbound hair, and took a shaking breath. He glanced at the native and forced himself to just not react to the sight of him.

_There. I _can_ do it,_ he thought triumphantly, then Zell smirked at him and a quiver ran through the depths of his belly. He looked hastily away, swallowing and squeezing his eyes shut.

_Oh, Hyne give me strength…_

- - - - - - -

He could have had the cowboy then, Zell knew. He'd felt it in the way that oh-so-delectable treat had twitched in his hand – Hyne, he'd wanted to lean down and taste it. He'd heard it in the ragged way Irvine's breath hitched. Seen it in the way his hips lifted, just a little, without his consent, silently begging. He could have had the cowboy. But no. It wasn't time. He had to be patient. There was confusion there. Guilt. Zell remembered guilt, but that had all changed. He would make it change for Irvine.

Some ten minutes later, Irvine still sat there, quite obviously _not_ looking at him. It would have been amusing, were it not for the fact that Zell never had been the most patient of men. He knew his patience would wear thin, and that it might be before the cowboy was ready. Some things, Zell had not learned restraint in.

Oh, he could be restrained _during_, most certainly. He would have his partner arching and moaning and begging before he gave them what they wanted, but _before_… He rarely waited. He wasn't used to waiting.

There were rules. Men who chose the path he had chosen were separated into two distinct groups and marked thus. It was easy to recognise a tak_er_ as opposed to a tak_en_. He _was_ a taker, and when he wanted to, he took. Courtship was short, a taken would never dare to say no, but of course it was then the taker's job to be sure the taken enjoyed himself. It was thus with men and women, also, and two women. Those who chose to be with men and women both wore appropriate marking to show this, as well as their chosen role in same-sex pairings.

Irvine was so obviously a taken that Zell didn't need markings to know it. His grace and beauty deserved to be cherished and his needs met by a taker. By him. This one, Zell wished to keep. This one, he would not simply spend a few nights with until he tired of it, or scattered nights here and there when he wished. No. The cowboy was to be his, forever and for always, and Zell had decided he could be faithful, as was the way. He would not only see to it that Irvine was given the marks to proclaim him a taken, but also, he would personally give a mark of his own, so all would know they weren't to touch.

Oh, to see that slender, pale, graceful body arch beneath his own… To hear the cries… Just imagining it was almost enough to make him groan. The loincloth suited the cowboy, Zell thought, showing off the length and muscles of his thighs, the rounded curve of his arse, the dip of his hips into his waist. It was better than all those clothes he used to wear. And his hair spilled free and silky down his back.

Although… now that he looked…

Zell frowned. He had forgotten to make sure Irvine brushed his hair after their bath, and it was snarled and knotted. His own still hung in his face, but it took only a few sweeps of his fingers to make sure it hung smooth. The cowboy, though…

Zell stood and he saw the flick of Irvine's eyes to him, then away again. But he noticed the cowboy couldn't resist watching him when he moved around the edge of the cave, skin gleaming with that light sheen of sweat in the firelight. Ah, yes. The loincloth flattered _him_, too, and he knew Irvine noticed. He was surprised the cowboy hadn't complained about the fire, but glad. He didn't know if he'd be able to explain that he needed to keep the fire hot for their food, as well as the pitch he used to fletch his arrows and darts, and various types of herbal medicines and poisons. Not without using words they could both understand.

The native found a Cactuar-spine brush and went over to Irvine, watching the cowboy tense as he settled behind him.

"Shh…" Zell whispered, which had reassured him before.

Irvine ducked his head a little, swallowing, and Zell reached out, smoothing a hand down his spine in a gentle stroke. The hand went no lower than the small of the cowboy's back, then slipped across to curl around his waist as the native shifted closer, knees going just a little way to either side of him.

Irvine shivered, but Zell couldn't manage to determine if it was a shiver of fear or one of mild excitement and expectation, anticipation. He made a soothing sound from the back of his throat and his fingertips stroked gently at Irvine's skin where they rested around his waist. The other hand brought the brush up and began to gently tease out the knots in the cowboy's partially dry hair.

- - - - - - -

There were a few long moments of nothing much but wincing and clenching of teeth, and every time Irvine made an audible sound, Zell said something Irvine could only assume to be "sorry". Once the worst of the knots were gone, and the brush was moving more easily through his still-damp hair, Irvine tried the word.

"/Sorry. Sooorry. Sorry./"

Zell chuckled, and he sounded pleased. He said the word again, more slowly, helping Irvine to get the pronunciation right. The cowboy relaxed under the brushing, and continued to say the word until he got it just right and Zell's hand moved at his waist to pat him gently in encouragement.

This sparked a fervor of point-and-say, until, after about an hour of practically needless brushing and much pointing, Irvine could say "fire", "arrow", "feather", "fur" and "hair" in the native's language. He would have been able to get more, he thought, if Zell were not so damned pedantic about pronunciation.

Zell finally left his hair alone and went to get a water-skin, bringing it over and offering it to Irvine, who nodded and took the skin. From that, he learned both "yes" and "thank you". The native was beaming proudly at him, and it sent a warm feeling through his whole being – then his stomach growled.

"Lunch time," he said.

Obviously, Zell didn't understand the words, but he understood the eager burbling of Irvine's stomach well enough, and he set out a lunch of salted meat and several forest vegetables that the cowboy had never seen before. Each was a new delight and Irvine thoroughly enjoyed learning the new tastes and Zell's word for each of them.

Shir'nis stuck her head in the cave just as they were finishing and warbled at Zell who laughed softly and went outside with the leftover vegetables, presumably to treat the two chocobos with them. Irvine sat and stared at the fire, trying to keep from glancing hopefully at the entrance every five seconds. He was fast becoming to dislike time apart from the native, even the shortest of times, and he couldn't believe _just_ how fast these feelings had seemed to appear. The strength of his reactions was frightening.

It wasn't long before Zell came back and he strutted around the cave not really doing much that Irvine could see, except for showing off. The man certainly seemed to have a high opinion of his own body, and he seemed, also, to delight in demonstrating the movement of each muscle to Irvine. He was like a new chocobo to the paddock trying to win the eye of the females away from the males who had been there long before him. When Zell took a few moments to return his hair to that crest with a sticky substance out of a clay jar, the image was only strengthened and Irvine burst into a sudden fit of laughter. He couldn't explain what he was laughing at to the native, and the quizzical look on Zell's face only made him laugh harder. He got pissed off with the laughing after a while and put a hand over Irvine's mouth, muttering what the cowboy assumed to be "shut up".

He crouched beside Irvine and cocked his head, as was his habit, and the cowboy had no idea what he was looking at, but it made him flush. He wanted to take Zell's attention off him, so he asked a question that he had wondered at before. Or, pointed a question. He indicated the jar Zell had taken the substance from, then indicated the blonde upsweep of hair and said the word he had learned, trying to make it obvious it was a question.

"/Hair/"

Zell frowned at him, evidently not quite sure what he was asking, so Irvine stood and went over to the jar, picking it up and showing the inside to the native with a questioning look.

"What is it?"

"Ah!" Zell said, catching on, then called out. "Jirrah!"

The Gayla floated leisurely within, tail flicking, and Zell stroked his back until he settled down on the floor of the cave. Then, with Irvine crouching close by to watch, he gently opened Jirrah's large mouth, taking what looked like a big spoon from where it hung on the wall, and sticking it within until only what was in his hand was still outside. He scooped a few times, then withdrew the spoon, filled with what could only be Gayla spit.

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Irvine cried, and the tone of his voice made Zell grin amusedly.

The native indicated that he should follow and went around the edge of the fire to where he had been fletching. They both sat down and Zell gave the spoon a practiced flick of his wrist, so that the wet goo ended up in a wide, flat bowl with a _splot_. Pink tongue showed in the corner of the blonde's mouth and he added a tiny portion of pitch to the goo, along with a pinch of crystallized powder from a little bag and he crumpled a leaf from another plant Irvine had never seen before. A little work with a pestle and Zell produced the exact substance from the clay jar.

"That's wrong on so many levels…" Irvine muttered, making a face.

Then Zell dipped his finger in the clear stuff and drew a line from Irvine's shoulder almost to his elbow before the cowboy could protest. He yelped, and glared at Zell, who only grinned. The cowboy was amazed when it dried, stiff and hard, moments later. No wonder Zell's hair could stand up like that.

The native went and got a soft piece of woven cloth, tipped a little water on it, and cleaned off the concoction in one easy stroke. He smiled, moved the stuff from the bowl to the jar and told Irvine with a point of his finger that it was called "gel". (3)

"That is _just_ disgusting, you do know that, right? Yuck." And he made a face.

Zell made the same face, then told Irvine the word for it. The rest of the afternoon was spent with the native teaching the cowboy how to fletch an arrow, and teaching him more words, then in the early evening, Zell stood up and beckoned to Irvine to follow.

They left the cave, Irvine fussing with the loincloth.

"/We/" the native said, then a word Irvine didn't understand that made him frown in confusion.

Zell struggled, obviously trying to find a way to explain it through gestures, but nothing he tried got through to Irvine. After about five minutes of wild gesturing and more and more confusion, they both gave up, and Zell disappeared back into the cave for a moment. When he returned he had his bow in hand and a quiver of arrows slung across his back, and the cowboy had some inkling of what they might be doing.

They set off silently into the trees, Zell far more silently than Irvine. It seemed every time he took a step, Irvine broke a twig or set a rock rolling or kicked a pile of leaf litter. It got to the stage where he stopped stock still and refused to move a step. The native went a few steps more before he realised the sounds had stopped, and turned, cocking his head in question.

"/I… no…/" Irvine said, which was as close to "I can't do it" as he could get in the unfamiliar language.

"/Yes/" Zell said, then another word and a gesture. Irvine realised immediately that the word was "come".

He shook his head, embarrassed and nervous. He knew what they were doing, and how were they supposed to catch anything with him wandering along sounding like a roll of Armadodos? (4)

The native came back to him and took his arm, pressing against his side which only really succeeded in making him more nervous. He showed Irvine how to move his feet, body set low, so as to disturb as little as possible. He watched, then tried it, and he wasn't as good as Zell by a long shot, but it was better than before. They set off again, and he watched the native closely, wanting to become as silent as he. Sure, that was what it was.

Irvine groaned.

- - - - - - -

(1) If anyone can tell me what the _fuck_ "clickled" means, it would be much appreciated… That's what I typed twice in a row trying to type "clicked" here.

(2) Geez, I guess this and the whole "clickled" incident should teach me not to be writing between midnight and one in the morning… Every time I've tried to type "chocobo" since I started writing at about eleven thirty, I've gotten "chobo"… which I'm figuring is a very poor chocobo with no home… XD

(3) Well, why not? -grins- Gel made out of Gayla spit. Hooray!

(4) Collective nouns are awesome. You know, like, a pride of lions or a gaggle of geese or a murder of crows. Yup, a murder. I figured a "roll" of Armadodos made sense. XD Expect me to play more with collective nouns.

Author's Note: Just because it's an awesome song and we have a bit of a cowboy theme… -sings- _Save a horse, ride a cowboy! All the girls say: save a horse, ride a cowboy!_ Woot! Go Big and Rich! I love that song!

By the way,I hate that doesn't support asterisks or those wiggly dash things...


	5. Hunted

Warnings: If you're still reading this fic, you already know and you don't _care. _

Pairings: If you're still reading this fic, you should already have guessed.

Disclaimer: If you think I own Irvine and Zell and Seifer and Squall and Selphie, then… you're dumb. I do own the plot and the Gayla and the chocobos and all that outside stuff that doesn't belong to Squaresoft.

Author's Notes: Sorry this one's been a while coming. I spilled coffee all over my laptop keyboard and it's _still_ in the shop. Luckily, I had a copy of this fic on my data stick, so now I'm fiddling with and posting it at uni – no easy feat when people are walking past randomly… Anyway! Here it is. Oh! f f .net readers, I'm always worried the management, in their unending wisdom :sarcasm, sarcasm: are going to boot me off for my not-so-kiddy-safe-stuff. If that happens, I'm easy enough to find. I'm the KittyMeowMaxwell on www mediaminer org and adultfan nexcess net and gundam-wing-universe net Wherever there's a space in those addresses is where there should be a dot, but f f .net kept deleting the addysout... Also, before the ones without www goes http... etc. What a pain in the arse. Anyway, I would, in fact, encourage you to read my stuff there instead of f f .net. We all know what their "wisdom" leads to… Also, there are a couple of fics that are exclusively on other sites.

Enough plugs, more fanfiction! As usual stuff marked /thusly/ is native-speak.

**_Mine. – _**_KittyMeowMaxwell_

_Chapter __Five –__ Hunted.._

It was lucky, Zell thought, that Grats had no sense of hearing to speak of. Everything else they might have eaten would be well gone by the time the cowboy got there. But, to be fair, he was doing better, and the native was proud of him for trying so hard.

He stilled at a rustle in the trees and Irvine mimicked him – damn, he looked sexy in that loincloth… Mmm mmm… Zell forced his mind back on track and indicated that Irvine should remain there. He inched forward to peep through some thick-growing bushes.

"/Come/" he hissed at Irvine. "/Quiet./" Both were words the cowboy knew and he came, obedient. "/See/"

Irvine _didn't_ know that word, but he knew what it meant when Zell pointed. He looked along the line of the native's finger and blinked.

"/Dinner/" Zell said, rubbing his belly.

"They're Grats!" Irvine said. "We can't eat them!"

Zell cocked his head, then simply turned his attention to the Grats and reached up and over his shoulder to withdraw an arrow and knock it to the bow. He sighted, drawing the string back, and caught the cowboy studying the flex of his muscles with the movement. He smirked, then let fly, making a pleased sound when one of the Grats screamed and the rest of the growth fled, clicking and squeaking fearfully. The one he had hit keeled over with a low cry and Zell puffed his chest out as he strode out of the cover to his kill.

"/Come/" he said, and Irvine came, making a low sound of appreciation at how clean a shot it had been.

Zell generally didn't bother with weapons when he hunted. It was easier for him to simply spring on an enemy and break its neck or beat it to death, but that wasn't as attractive as an arrow. Later, Irvine could see what he usually did.

The native took out a Belhelmel-blade knife and began to skin the Grat, showing Irvine something that obviously surprised him – there was white meat under the thick, hard shell of foliage that made up the Grat's body. He offered a strip of the foliage to Irvine and smiled when the cowboy took a hesitant bite which grew more enthusiastic when he realised it was good.

"/Good/" Zell asked, and Irvine immediately picked up on what the word must mean. He was getting better, Zell thought proudly.

"/Yes. Good/" Irvine replied, finishing off the strip with a few quick bites.

"/This is even better./"

Zell knew the cowboy wouldn't understand that, but it didn't matter. He carefully cut a tentacle off the creature, and it immediately began to drip rich red-and-green blood. He dipped two fingers in the liquid, then held up towards Irvine's lips.

"/No/" Irvine said straight away.

"/Don't argue with me./"

The cowboy pressed his lips together in a thin line and shook his head, flatly refusing, so Zell simply swiped his fingers along those lips, and watched as Irvine's automatic reflexes took over and he licked them.

The sky-blue eyes blinked and blinked again.

"Oh! Hyne, that's _good_/Good/"

Zell beamed and nodded in an I-told-you-so manner. Grat's blood had a flavour all its own, a combination of peppermint and cinnamon, and it was addictive as any sweet Irvine's own people could make. (1)

They took home with them several fat pieces of meat and two tentacles for sweets. The rest, they left, but Zell knew the carnivorous monsters which roamed the forest would dispose of it soon enough.

Whipcrack warbled unhappily when they returned, evidently thinking it unfair that Shir'nis could wander around as she pleased. Zell went over and unbridled the yellow bird, figuring he wouldn't be inclined to wander off now that he'd probably forgotten where home was. And he thought Shir'nis was probably a good incentive for Irvine's bird to stay as well. He had already seen Whipcrack flaring his crest and throwing his head back to warble at her in what Zell supposed must be a musical fashion to chocobo ears. (2)

Sure enough, Whipcrack trotted over to say hello to the piebald bird, who ignored him. Typical woman, Zell thought with a snort, then headed inside to find Irvine already sitting on the furs and stoking the fire, onto which he had placed a new log.

_The perfect taken,_ Zell thought with a lick of his lips. _He tends to the fire already. I wonder if he can cook…? I wonder if he'll willingly let me have him, or if I'll have to make him want it so badly he can't refuse his body. Will he fight what he wants? Will he fight _me_? Ai, ai… he's so beautiful…_

The native went around to a dim, cool corner of the cave and brought Irvine several big leaves, handing them over as he sat. The cowboy considered for a moment, then he must have remembered the way Zell had done it before and he began to wrap the flesh in the leaves. When that was done, he eyed the fire and the native wondered what he was doing when he stood and went ferreting around the cave.

It seemed to Zell that Irvine was already beginning to know his place. He hadn't questioned when he was given the leaves, only spent a moment working out what had been wanted of him and now he was doing it. At least, Zell thought he was, but he had no idea why the man was searching the cave.

"Ahah!" Irvine said suddenly and Zell looked up from his musings, cocking his head. The cowboy came back with the harvesting spoon he'd used on Jirrah.

"/What/" Zell wondered, another word Irvine already knew. He had to admit the cowboy was learning faster than he would have thought possible. Yes, he had chosen well. Of course, that was to be expected.

"Tongs would be better, but this'll do."

Irvine carefully balanced one of the packages on the spoon and eased it into the coals, making sure it was covered before putting in the next. Soon, the five parcels were all buried and cooking. Zell smiled proudly and patted Irvine's thigh, grinning at the flush that ran down the cowboy's neck.

He left Irvine alone only until after they'd eaten, then he was close by the cowboy's side, teaching him more new words. He touched him anytime he could manage it, and each time, the cowboy's reaction became less and less afraid and more and more positive.

When Irvine yawned, Zell smiled gently and cupped his cheek, drawing him forward to rest their foreheads together. The cowboy's mouth was already begging for a kiss, even if he wasn't conscious of it, but no. Not yet. Disappointment would make him want to stay longer.

"/Sleep/" Zell murmured. "/Dream. I'll be here in the morning./"

"/Yes/" Irvine said, smiling a little. He knew enough to pick up what Zell meant.

He sighed in a disappointment the native knew he wouldn't be able to put a name to, then lay down and Zell gently stroked his hair back from his face, humming softly.

"Zell…?" he said, already falling asleep from the combination of a long day and the stroking of his hair.

"Mmm…?"

"/I'm happy to… to be here…/"

Zell smiled, leaning down to brush a kiss over Irvine's brow.

"/I'm happy to have you here/" he replied.

Irvine slipped off to sleep in bare moments.

Zell was happy to watch him for a long moment, so pleased to have so beautiful a man as his own. His hand stroked out of the cowboy's hair, across the gentle rise-and-fall of the chest, down the taught stomach. He hesitated only a second – what could it hurt? Irvine was asleep and he would never know Zell had taken _another_ peek and another touch…

He twitched the loincloth aside, making a sound that was half-sigh, half-groan, then ran his fingertips gently down the side of the prize beneath. Irvine shifted and murmured, but he didn't wake.

"/Oh, you are so perfect, my cowboy…/" Zell whispered, turning his hand to run his knuckles back up the same length.

Irvine's next breath out was shaky.

Zell took his hand back before he did more than he should, and gently replaced the scrap of cloth that was all that protected the cowboy's modesty. He stood and slipped outside to check on the chocobos. They were still there, Whipcrack dancing around Shir'nis who was still ignoring him.

"/Foolish bird/" Zell said, chuckling. "/It's too dark for her to see anyway. Bedtime for you. Stop annoying my girl./"

Whipcrack gave a few small kwehs, lowering his head and looking endearingly up at Shir'nis. She chuffed through her nostrils, and seemed quite glad when Zell returned the golden bird to his restraints for the night.

"/Only for the night. I don't want you being frightened and running away. Irvine wouldn't forgive me./"

Whipcrack still glared as he walked away, and Shir'nis gave a cocky wark, which Zell instantly shushed. He didn't want Irvine to wake.

When he returned to the cave, it was to find his cowboy had curled up a little and was shivering. It wasn't very cold in the cave, but Zell supposed there might be a breeze, and it would certainly get cooler during the night. He carefully banked the fire, then collected the Snow Lion pelt and went over to lay down beside Irvine. He spread the warm fur over both of them, then slipped one arm around the cowboy's shoulders, the other around his waist. He made that same wordless, sleepy murmuring and snuggled deeper into the furs and closer to Zell.

That pleased the native very much…

- - - - - - -

Seifer had no pattern. There was no reasoning behind the paths he chose through the trees, crisscrossing the well-worn track that lead between Irvine's home and the O'Leary's. He and his mini-posse took hours to move only part-way up the track while they searched for clues.

The Sheriff was just starting to think it was a fool's errand, when Squall reined his chocobo, Dot, (3) sharply off to one side of the track which they'd fallen back onto for about the twentieth time. Seifer knew better than to ignore Squall, even if he didn't bother _explaining_ himself, so he drew Knightly to a halt and turned him in time to see the Deputy slip off Dot and into a crouch in one easy movement. Seifer was faintly jealous that a man could make so simple an action look like poetry.

He shook that off, and went through the low-lying scrub to where Squall crouched.

"What-" he started, but got no further as Squall held up an unspent shotgun cartridge, shiny new. He stood and Seifer bent so they could examine the cartridge together, Dylan and Bobby joining them some ten seconds later.

"Well, don't really mean nothin'," Dylan said thoughtfully, slow words like a docile cow mooing in the pastures. "But I don't reckon we got much to go on."

Squall nodded.

"He's right. It might have fallen from Irvine's pockets or saddlebags or it might not have, but we haven't seen _anything_ so far."

Bobby scratched his ear with a work-calloused finger, chestnut eyes thoughtful.

"Not many men bother carryin' 'round somethin' like a shotgun when a pistol are enough to save yer hide. But Irvine sure do like 'em big."

Seifer allowed himself a moment to drag his mind out of the dirt, then he nodded, patting his chocobo's neck gently. Without needing to say anymore, the four men set off, Squall swinging back into the saddle, in the direction the cartridge had lain off the track.

They found only scant hints of Irvine's passing, but they found enough to know that he'd been this way. A yellow chocobo feather nestled in the leaf-litter, a tiny scrap of fluff from the ruff of that infernal jacket of his tangled in a bush, and even – spotted again by Squall's sharp grey-blue eyes – four or five strands of long, auburn hair snagged on a low tree-branch.

Seifer pushed the other three mercilessly, but no one complained. They were all eager to find Irvine, if they could. Only when the sun was so close to setting that they could barely see the backs of their chocobo's heads and only when Knightly tripped and stumbled beneath him several times in a row did the Sheriff call a halt. All four men were only too glad to find a clear patch, set up camp and light a fire to cook their dinner – they hadn't stopped for lunch.

Bobby set tea boiling while Dylan worried about food and Squall went for firewood. Seifer unsaddled all the birds and got them fed, taking a moment to relieve himself before he returned to the merrily crackling fire.

Despite the business they were on, the four of them were still in good spirits. They were men of the land, and it was hard to get much closer to it than they were now. They swapped stories and told jokes and laughed, and Dylan even produced a banjo from the back of his saddle. It wasn't long before their stories had accompaniment and they even sang a few bars of well-known ballads before Seifer threw a rock at Bobby for being off-key and Squall glared at Seifer for singing the wrong words.

They enjoyed themselves immensely, Irvine aside, and curled up to sleep early, so they could wake and continue on with the sunrise.

- - - - - - -

Shir'nis woke him sometime through the night, creeping into the cave – a rule she _knew_ she wasn't to break – and nosing his shoulder. He was glad of it, however, because he slipped out from under the fur without waking Irvine. The cowboy made an unhappy sound at the loss of his warmth, but he settled back into sleep almost immediately and Zell walked silently out of the cave.

For the chocobo to have broken a cardinal rule, something must be wrong.

He followed her soundlessly through the velvet night, painted with stars and the tiny sounds of the never-ending battle for survival that went on in the undergrowth. His thoughts didn't wander even briefly to the warm bundle waiting for him back at the cave, not when being so silent took all his concentration. There was silent, and then there was complete silence. Shir'nis was nervy enough to make him take extra care and be the latter.

It wasn't long before the sounds of male laughter and the thrum of music reached his ears. He crouched low and crept forward, waving Shir'nis to stay where she was. It was pitiful, really. They left themselves open to any number of dangers, not the least being his own people. He had seen the tall blonde one before, when he was forced to follow his cowboy close to the town that was a blight on the landscape. The one who laughed and spoke less than the others, but seemed always in deep thought, he associated with the tall blonde one, because he had never seen them separately. The other two could have been any of the men from the town and the surrounding ranches.

They never mentioned Irvine, but he knew instinctively that was why they were out here. He showed his teeth in distaste. They would not take his cowboy from him. He would hear them coming a mile off anyway…

There was nothing to stop him springing on them now and slitting all their throats. They would _not_ know he was there before it was too late. But no… then more would come, in larger groups. Larger than even he could handle. Kiros would be angry enough with him, then, to kill both him and his cowboy. And, he knew, the dark-skinned native would make Zell watch as he forced that gorgeous body to its knees, tangled dark fingers in the masses of silken hair, jerked back the cowboy's head and slit that elegant, pale throat. That would be worse than his own death.

Many would volunteer to hold him helpless while Kiros spilled Irvine's blood.

No. He couldn't kill the four strangers. He and his cowboy would have to evade them.

He stayed and watched in silence, judging the abilities of each of these men as best he could without watching them track and hunt and kill. Again, he showed his teeth, this time in frustration. He couldn't trust that he knew everything about them until he saw them at work. But he couldn't waste the time to watch them.

He and Irvine would just have to move the next morning, and go as far as they could. He hoped he knew enough about the surroundings to find them new shelter. If he took Irvine any closer to the native encampment, trouble would be his anyway. They would have to go in the other direction.

Curse this would-be party of thieves! Did they think they could just march in and take from him what was rightfully his! If it came down to it, he would fight for his right. The tall blonde one was the leader, and Zell doubted he would stand up long in a true fight.

But he mustn't let them use their guns. Even _he_ couldn't dodge a bullet.

When the group lay down, preparing for sleep, Zell left them and returned to the cave. He rewarded Shir'nis with a sugar cube he'd taken once when he'd slipped into the cowboy's home. Mother, father and son had all been out, and he had found many interesting things in there. Shir'nis loved the sweet, white cubes.

He found Irvine still fast asleep, and for that he was glad. He quietly packed away everything, so that soon there was little to say they'd been there, except for Irvine still curled up in the furs. Zell joined him once he was satisfied they would be able to move almost immediately, and the cowboy turned in his arms to face him, burying his auburn head between shoulder and fur.

Zell smiled, and went easily to sleep.

- - - - - - -

Irvine sighed and burrowed deeper into hard-and-soft warmth, reluctant to let go of sleep. He couldn't remember ever having been so comfortable. And safe. So safe.

He eventually opened his eyes to find himself looking directly into the sleeping of face of his host. He blushed instantly when he realised his own leg was slung across Zell's hips, and the native's strong arms encircled him, but it faded quickly and he calmed down, realising he liked where he was. He hooked his leg further over the strong line of Zell's hip and pulled himself closer, biting his lip when that drew their lengths into gentle contact.

Zell shifted and Irvine's eyes widened slightly at the resultant feelings. But it was good, he realised, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Zell's neck and shoulder. He shifted his own hips far more deliberately and gasped into the native's skin, feeling a growl stir in the chest against which one of his hands rested. It made him jump, and he backed off guiltily.

But Zell's sapphire eyes were already studying him, darkened slightly.

"/S-sorry…/" he whispered.

A smirk spread across Zell's features, flashing those fangs, and his hand snaked quickly around to the small of Irvine's back, bringing him back to where he had been. There was nothing even remotely tentative or experimental about the way the native moved _his_ hips and Irvine's breath caught in his throat.

"Z-Zell…"

"Shh…" Zell purred, moving his hand from the small of Irvine's back to the cowboy's thigh, pulling it a little further up his body. Irvine discovered that felt even better.

"Wh-what…" He couldn't manage to remember how to say the word in Zell's language, especially when the native rolled him onto his back. He still held the thigh where it was, but his movements became smoother, a gentle roll of his hips instead of a jerk. It somehow managed to rub their entire bodies together.

Irvine whimpered.

Then one of the chocobos warked and the roll of Zell's hips became a rolling of his body, off Irvine and into a crouch. He spat a word Irvine knew had to be a curse, and cast a despairing look at the problem between both their legs.

"/Sorry/" he murmured ruefully, then hurried out, snatching four heavy bags from the dirt-and-rock floor.

"Holy Hyne in heaven…" Irvine whispered hoarsely, panting brokenly. "Oh…Oh gods…"

"Irvine," Zell said a minute or so later, apology clear in his voice. "/Come./"

"I… I…" Irvine swallowed, running a hand through his hair. "/I can't./"

"/Please. Come/" Zell said gently, coming over to take Irvine's hand. "/I/" and then he said a word the cowboy realised instantly was 'understand'. "/I understand./"

And yes, Irvine realised with a blush and a flick of his eyes to the native's loincloth, Zell _did_ understand. He thought his best thoughts of Billy-Jo's Ma in a corset in an effort to calm himself down, and let Zell help him to his feet, then jumped to help when the native started bundling up furs.

They were soon on their chocobos, two bags carried by each bird and furs spread out beneath the riders. It was the best and only way to transport them.

"/Where/" Irvine asked, and hoped Zell realised he meant to ask where they were going.

"/Away/"

"/Why…/"

Zell didn't answer him, but a glare broke momentarily across his face, and Irvine didn't want to know anymore.

- - - - - - -

(1) chant-sings Cinnamon! Peppermint! Grat's blood! Woo! giggles Fuck, we have some weird RPs… But this one was _all_ Hicky! It was _Zell_ that introduced _Irvine_ to the wonders of Grat's blood. How the stuff came to taste like cinnamon and peppermint is beyond me, but damned if that doesn't sound like a bloody good combination. Suffice it to say, Grat's blood can become decidedly sexy and cause quite passionate reactions, but I swear I won't terrify you with the idea ever again. I just had to put it in. There'll be no more mention.

(2) Hicky: Whipcrack is singing! Yes, Whipcrack _is_ singing. Let's face it, bloody great yellow birds really aren't all that pretty, so I figure courtship behaviour wouldn't have much to do with looking sexy. More Kitty bullshit. Ain't it grand?

(3) More blame to be laid on Hicky. "Dotdotdot!" says she, and I obey. "…" At least she didn't try to make me get him to call it "Whatever…"

Author's Notes: Sorry for the relative shortness of this chapter, but honestly, if I'd given you the next part as well, that was another two pages, and the next part after than ran straight on from it in a way that would necessitate it being put in as well, which would have made the chapter end up about _twice_ as long as the previous ones, which would mean I'd get to the end of what I've written faster, and at the moment, I don't have a lot of time (and my laptop is at the shop) so I'm not adding to this fic, and I don't want to leave you hanging for months and months while I write more. takes a breath That was a mouthful. Heh. Hope you liked the chapter.

…

…Was that one whole sentence…:dies:

Oh! Another thing. Huge thank yous to Adriatic. You made me blush and gave me a smile on a cloudy, shitty day in shitty Bendigo after a shitty hour of a boring maths lecture!


	6. Feathered

Warnings: Yaoi (duh), limeness and citrus in general, Zell… I swear in this fic he needs a warning… Language maybe… I don't know…

Pairings: If you can't work it out by now, I'm not going to dignify that by telling you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 8 or any of its affiliates. I do own this plot and the personalities of Whipcrack, Jirrah and Shir'nis as well as various other side characters which may or may not be in this chapter. I'm not making any money off this fanfiction.

Author's Notes: Well, just to make up for last time (and because there's another damn big section in this one which then has _another_ section that follows on…) this chapter is _twelve_ pages, so do enjoy. Oh, and AFF. Net people, I know you're reading this, there _is_ a hit counter, so you better review or I'll let Kiros have his way with you… ignores the cheers and catcalls

And yeah… /Native speak/.

_**Mine. – **KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Six – Feathered._

How dare they? How _dare_ they waltz onto _his_ people's land and think they could just take from him what was his! How _dare they_ spoil… Ai, ai, ai! Things had been so close. So _good_, but those damnable men were getting closer. Shir'nis had alerted him to their presence, and he was glad of it, because the last thing he needed was to lose Irvine because of impatience to have him. And if the chocobo hadn't stuck her head in, he _would_ have taken the cowboy then and there.

Ah! Yes, it had been so glorious to wake up to his gorgeous new prize _experimenting_ like that. It proved that the cowboy wanted, even if he wasn't aware of _what_ he wanted. Of course, what he wanted was Zell – and really, who wouldn't…? He _was_ such a fine specimen of male health. And he would please his cowboy a thousand times over.

Oh, how he wanted to!

Zell cast a glance over at Irvine, who's body swayed gracefully with the movements of his chocobo. It was better, now that he was in the loincloth. The native could see the flex of muscles beneath smooth skin, in his thighs and up his sides and along his arms, especially when Whipcrack tried to tug the reins out so he could nip at Shir'nis' feathers. The cowboy tensed slightly, holding him in, and those muscles in his arms drew taught. Zell licked his lips, easily able to imagine what those arms would feel like around him.

They moved swiftly, more swiftly, Zell was sure, than the group of four men behind them. They would stop for foolish things such as food. He and Irvine ate while they rode. Zell knew what was safe to eat off the trees and pulled it, then kneed Shir'nis over to share with the cowboy.

Irvine clucked at Whipcrack when the chocobo skipped a few steps, trying to impress Shir'nis, then flat out swore at him and whacked him over the head when clucking didn't work. Zell laughed.

"/You show him/" the native said, handing across what passed for their meal. He stayed close, liking when their legs touched. Irvine liked it too, he thought. He hoped. It made the cowboy seem more real, more solid, more _his_.

As the day wore on, Zell taught the cowboy more words, proud of how quickly he was learning. With only the two of them, it was easy to teach him, and he was eager to learn. Thankfully, the topic of him learning Irvine's language never arose. The cowboy seemed to enjoy the lilting flow of Zell's, and truly, it sounded sexy coming from him. Then again, the native reflected with a slow smirk, _anything_ would sound sexy coming from Irvine.

"/What's that smile for/" Irvine wondered, grinning slightly.

_Because you'll sound delightful when I pleasure you…_

"/You're beautiful/" he said, rather than what he thought, and grinned when Irvine blushed slightly.

"/Beauty is for she-folk/" the cowboy replied.

Zell snorted and shook his head.

"/Different beauty. Not just for she-folk./"

Irvine fell silent, and he remained that way until Zell stopped the chocobos so the two of them could stretch their legs and perform necessary bodily functions. He let the cowboy have his privacy, but he wasn't very happy at all when said cowboy returned with his hair tied back.

"/Your hair/" he said, touching the woven grass Irvine had wrapped around it. It was no longer the cowboy's right to choose what he did with his hair…

"/It keeps tangling. Riding is difficult with it in my face/" Irvine explained, then in a lower, shy voice; "/I promise to take it out when we stop. But down is hard./"

Zell considered this, eyeing Irvine closely. He could see the logic, even if he didn't like it. He thought the cowboy looked stunning with his hair down, but by the same token, he didn't want the auburn waves to be torn out. He leaned forward, nosing at the soft hair, then moved back again, nodding slightly.

"/Alright. Next time, ask me./"

Irvine's eyebrows lifted then furrowed at him.

"/You can't control everything I do./"

"/I can. I do./"

Zell looked intently at Irvine, trying to make him understand. The cowboy took a step back, shaking his head.

"/You don't./"

"/You are mine, Irvine. I can do with you what I wish./"

"/No. It doesn't work like that./"

Zell showed his teeth, a conscious gesture of intimidation and dominance, and drew himself up. He had given Irvine some leeway, because he was, after all, not used to the rules now set upon him, but outright disobedience simply couldn't be tolerated. The cowboy had no right to so obviously defy him.

"/Yes, it works like that/" he informed Irvine calmly.

"/You can't order me around./"

"/I can. You are here and you are mine and you will do as told. Hair up is fine for now, but next time, ask first./"

Zell had seen the look Irvine cast on him before. He never turned it on his parents, but he had turned it on men of his age, and women too. It was a look that pissed the native off, and had pissed him off from the first moment he ever saw it. The cowboy tilted his head back, chin going up, and he looked down his nose in a manner that clearly said he thought he was above and better than Zell or anything he could do or say.

The native peeled back his lips again and his hand flashed up to cup around Irvine's neck, over his shoulder. The cowboy sucked in a breath as Zell's thumb sank into a pressure-point, and he went to his knees against his own volition. (1)

"/Don't look like that at me/" Zell warned him, lifting his chin to meet his eyes.

"Z-Zell…"

"/Shh. I talk, you listen. You are no longer with own kind. You are with me, and I make rules for you. You are not stupid, Irvine. You know what I want and, I think, you are starting to know what you want. I took you because I want you. Now, I have you and you are mine. A taken/" He knew by the look on Irvine's face that the cowboy didn't understand that word, but it didn't matter for now. "/A taken listens to his taker/" Again, Irvine didn't know the word, but Zell assumed he would understand that he meant the cowboy was to listen to him. "/You listen to me./"

Irvine swallowed, but nodded, and Zell was desperate to kiss him, but reprimand couldn't come with affection so close on its heels. Not yet, anyway. Though, there were definite advantages to reconciliation after an argument…

"/S-Sorry…/" the cowboy whispered after a long few heartbeats, voice unsteady. He was afraid.

Zell let his face soften and he drew Irvine back to his feet, stroking his cheek. The cowboy trembled, hands moving meaninglessly around the level of their waists, but he didn't pull away.

"/You do what I say, yes, but you gain also. You no longer need worry about anything. I will take care of you, protect you, feed you, clothe you./" He grinned at his cowboy adding; "/And I do not own patch-beasts./"

"/What…/" Irvine's elegant brows furrowed – he didn't know what Zell was talking about.

The native frowned as well, trying to work out how to explain himself. He scratched the edge of his ear with a finger, mostly because lifting his arm made his muscles more prominent.

"/Patch-beasts… Creatures… you hate./"

Still Irvine looked blank. Zell showed his teeth in frustration, then cupped a hand around his mouth.

"Mooooo!"

Irvine broke into a grin, then burst into a fit of laughter that made Zell blink in confusion. What was funny? That was the sound the patch-beasts made and, if he did say so himself – which he did – he was good at imitating them.

"/What/" he asked of Irvine. "/Why do you laugh/"

"/Because you look funny/" the cowboy replied, showing Zell the face he had made, eyes wide, hand cupped around his mouth and lips stuck out like an exaggerated kiss.

Zell had to grin. The cowboy was right, it did look funny.

"/I see./"

"/And they're, like, called/ cows."

It was Zell's turn to laugh slightly. The affectation 'like', he hadn't thought would remain.

"Cows," Zell said, then nodded. "/But patch-beasts is what they are. Is better way to speak of them./"

- - - - - - -

He was so arrogant. So certain that his way was the best way and that no one, least of all Irvine, would contradict him. He didn't feel inclined to after the display about his hair. Besides, this time Zell _was_ right. The cowboy didn't know where the hell the word 'cow' came from, but 'patch-beasts' actually described what a cow _looked_ like. Of course, that would make _him_ a patch-beastboy, which was just stupid.

He didn't return to Whipcrack's back until Zell had returned to Shir'nis', which seemed to be the right thing to do, because the native gave a nod of approval. Irvine wondered what Zell had referred to him as when he had said 'a something listens to his something'. They _had_ been different words, but only partly. Derivations of the one word, he was sure, but without knowing the one word, he couldn't work out the derivations.

He shrugged it off when Whipcrack sauntered after Shir'nis, warbling in the back of his throat in an effort to catch her attention.

"For Hyne's sake, will you shut up?" Irvine hissed, shifting on the furs beneath him. Zell had dispensed with the saddle wherever he'd dispensed with Irvine's gun and clothes, and the cowboy was glad of the furs. Without pants, riding bareback would be even more uncomfortable. Especially the way Whipcrack kept trying to dance for Zell's chocobo. At least the native hadn't taken bridle and reins away as well. He wondered, not for the first time, how Shir'nis was so well trained.

Irvine blinked in surprise when, just as the sky was turning to gold and the sun was beginning to set, Zell slid free of Shir'nis back and disappeared into the bushes with nothing more than a "/Stay/" thrown over his shoulder at both the bird and Irvine himself. Shir'nis instantly lowered her head and started to crop at the undergrowth, sifting through grasses and weeds in search of greens or a fat bug. The cowboy stared at the place where Zell had left, marveling at how quickly the native had been gone from view. He let go Whipcrack's reins and allowed the chocobo to follow Shir'nis lead.

He thought back to this morning, how it had felt when Zell rolled him onto his back. He felt the same stirring, excitement deep in his belly and twitching between his legs. He thought of Selphie, how she squirmed just so when he touched her right, and knew it matched his own squirming when the native had rolled his hips.

It was so… _basic. _So dominant and claiming a movement – he _knew_ it was, because he often made the same motion against a woman. But he _wasn't_ a woman. That didn't seem to phase Zell. Indeed, the opposite. They both had been as excited as each other after this morning's encounter. Irvine closed his eyes and hooked one ankle up over the junction of Whipcrack's neck and shoulders so he could prop his elbow on it and support his chin in his hand.

He realised, suddenly that he had wanted the native to kiss him this morning, and still wanted it now. Pictures of the way the hot water had sluiced off Zell's body as he stepped out of the lake and how the steam had curled around him flashed across Irvine's closed eyelids and that deep, primal stirring coiled in his belly again. Hyne, it felt _good_. Hot, animal, passionate. He wouldn't _need_ to be restrained, afraid of bruising pale, feminine skin.

Vague fantasies captured his half-dozing mind. It wasn't something he had contemplated before, but he wasn't naïve either. He could conjure up pictures good enough to feed the hungry heat low in his belly. He shifted a little, imagining how it would feel to catalogue each of those flexing muscles with his hands instead of his eyes. The idea of Zell's mouth on him was delicious; at his neck, shoulder, chest, nipple, abdomen, navel… lower.

"Mmm…" Irvine purred, shifting again.

Whipcrack moved on and he swayed easily with the stride out of long familiarity. He knew the chocobo wouldn't stray far from Shir'nis. Then he tripped, making Irvine hiss painfully as the movement jarred certain excited areas against bunched-up furs. Shir'nis looked disdainfully at them, as though she had been set to baby-sit two particularly annoying children. Whipcrack warbled at her.

"I don't think it's workin', boy," the cowboy said sympathetically, patting the golden neck. Whipcrack seemed to sigh and his head lowered. Irvine chuckled. "Never know, if you keep tryin'."

He sighed, wondering to himself why Zell _hadn't_ kissed him yet. He was embarrassed that he wanted just that, but curious as well. He wanted to learn. He wasn't shy of his body, of his reactions, of his hunger for the delightful pastime that was sex. Granted, he considered it the domain of man and woman, but… What Zell wanted was obvious, now. The intense look he cast at Irvine had developed into something hungry, longing. Or maybe it had been that from the start, and the cowboy just wasn't aware of it.

It seemed so long since he had laid Selphie down in the hay, hitched up her skirts and made her wriggle, but it was only the day before yesterday. Already, he could speak Zell's language well enough to carry on a conversation. Already, his body told him it had been too long since he last used it. And, generally speaking, he was enough in control to go _much_ longer than two days without intimate company.

It was Zell. He knew it was Zell. The native was playing him like a harp, igniting, banking, feeding the fire inside of him. And he was a master of it. He could have Irvine panting with just a look, and the cowboy knew he was aware of that fact – really, how could he not be, so arrogant as he was? But that the native could tug his strings so easily so _soon_ unnerved Irvine. Even _he_ took longer than that to manipulate a woman into thinking the haystack was _her_ idea. The fastest he had ever managed was four days.

There was a low whistle and Shir'nis lifted her head, then trotted off. Irvine kneed Whipcrack after her, and they came out of the thick growth into a clearer area. Zell already had a fire burning, and he was sitting examining several feathers like the three in his own hair. Irvine slid off Whipcrack and went to see what Zell was doing, going to his knees beside him.

"/Time for you to remember, Cowboy/" the native said, holding up a feather.

Irvine blinked and frowned, cocking his head a little.

"/Remember? Remember what/"

"/Will stand no more disrespect from you. Remember your place./"

Irvine arched a brow, but Zell had looked away again, stirring a bubbling substance in a clay pot in the fire. He threw in three vibrant deep blue blossoms, and the pale liquid turned the same colour. Into this, he dipped the feather.

"/What/" Irvine wondered, not quite following, but beginning to get some idea.

"/Can't claim you yet, without others. Can't mark you./" He indicated the tattoo around his own thigh. "/But can take first step./" He withdrew the feather from the blue concoction and laid it by the fire, presumably to dry, then he turned to look at Irvine, firelight dancing along his face so that his tattoo seemed to crawl there.

Irvine swallowed, but he didn't fight when Zell reached behind him to free his hair, running his fingers through the fire-silk until it fell free about the cowboy's shoulders. He reached up, then, and touched the blued feathers in his own hair.

"Zell…?"

"/Don't be afraid. Nothing any different since the moment I saw you – you've always been mine./"

Irvine's eyes widened and he shook his head, scowling at the native.

"/No person owns another person./"

Zell scoffed, curling his lip slightly, and made a gesture Irvine thought was in the general direction of the town.

"/People always own people. Husband owns wife. Wife owns children. Always./"

"/A husband doesn't _own_ his wife…/"

Both golden brows lifted at that, the native feigning a look of surprise with a patronising air that made Irvine feel about two years old.

"/No? Always, husband tells wife to do things. Cook for me, clean for me, work garden, feed children./"

"/That's different…/" Irvine muttered, but he knew Zell was right.

"/Different? How/"

"/Husbands don't mark wives like cattle./"

"/No/" Zell said again, then lifted his hands, wrapping the forefinger and thumb of his right around the ring finger of his left. "/Gold band. Says wife belongs to husband and husband to wife – wife expects husband to be hers only, same as husband expects of wife. People own people just the same as I own you, just are too stupid and 'civilized'/" he sneered the word. "/to say so./"

Irvine had run out of arguments.

"/You're smart/" he sighed after several minutes of trying to come up with something else.

Zell seemed to like that. He puffed out his chest and ran a hand through the un-spiked hair at his temple. Irvine couldn't help but chuckle ruefully at him. At least he wouldn't have to work too hard to stroke the damn man's ego.

"/You're smart to realise that. Would also be smart to obey me./"

"/Well, I guess that depends on what you tell me to do./"

The native smirked, reaching out to pat Irvine's thigh.

"/Fiery hair shows fire inside./"

- - - - - - -

_Fire to burn bright when I make love to you._

He didn't say that, though. He meant to make the cowboy wait for that, because he knew he was starting to want it. More than starting, maybe. Irvine's eyes slid more often away from his face, following the lines of his body down to the meager scrap of cloth about his hips. He was certainly having Thoughts.

Zell touched the feather lightly to see if it was dried yet, but it was still tacky to his touch so he left it.

"/You're not the first one who's, like, said that/" Irvine murmured and Zell had to pause a moment to remember what it was he'd actually said.

"/Who else/" he wondered, already getting jealous.

Irvine shrugged.

"/Lots./"

Zell grumbled to himself, which made Irvine laugh softly.

"/No more. Mine for always/" Zell told him with no room for argument. He eyed Irvine, waiting for a protest, but the cowboy just sighed and rolled his eyes. Zell could tell he thought otherwise, but it was gratifying that Irvine had at least learned when he ought to keep his thoughts to himself.

The native offered Irvine some fresh-cooked meat, which the cowboy took with his thanks and devoured in no time flat. He had a good appetite. Good appetite meant good stamina. Zell grinned and gave him another chunk.

"/What do I have to do/"

Zell looked quizzically at Irvine, who was licking his fingers clean of the juices.

"Eh?"

"/For this… whatever you're going to do./"

"/Ah/" Zell smirked, licking his lips just so he could watch those sky-coloured eyes widen and reflect more firelight. "/Just be still./"

Irvine's eyes widened further and Zell reached out to test the feather again. He was pleased to find it dry and he picked it up, shaking excess clumps of dye free of it. He stroked it, un-sticking the barbs from one another until they were back to their usual feathery feel.

Irvine was watching him with a wariness that he found highly amusing, head clearly filled with all sorts of strange ideas as to what Zell was going to do.

"/Close your eyes/" he murmured and Irvine hesitated only a moment before doing so, swallowing in the same moment.

Some part of him quailed at how much of a production he was making out of so simple and every-day an act – Feathering was impermanent anyway. It merely let everyone else know who was sleeping with who at any given time. There was nothing to stop any other taker from putting his own feather to Irvine's hair. Of course, Irvine didn't know that.

Zell grinned and shifted forward to straddle the cowboy's kneeling legs, feeling the twitch in those elegant thighs when he settled upon them. He shifted forward until their hips were flush against one another, then bent, pressing a kiss to the curve of the cowboy's shoulder. Irvine's breath hitched.

"Z-Zell…" he whispered hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably.

"/Be still/" Zell reminded him firmly.

Irvine stilled, and Zell could feel his heartbeat where their chests touched. He tested a fang with his tongue and toyed with the idea of biting, marking that way, but discarded it. Not yet. He reached up, brushing most of the cowboy's hair back over his shoulders, then with a strong piece of twine, he fixed the feather just behind Irvine's left ear, the opposite to his own; blatant proclamation that the cowboy was a taken.

He drew back and breathed gently across Irvine's lips, watching them part and beg for a kiss. A smirk curved his own lips and he denied it, slipping off and away to settle back down on the grassy ground.

Irvine blinked at him.

"/But… I… Th-that's it…/" He sounded disappointed. Good.

"/Yes./"

Irvine said nothing, fingers coming up to touch the feather in his hair. He sighed and stood, going over to Whipcrack to retrieve some of the furs. It was already beginning to cool down, and they were no longer inside the well-warmed cave.

"/I am sorry/" Zell said as Irvine settled back down, and the cowboy looked askance at him.

"/For/"

"/Not finding shelter. My job to make sure you're sheltered./"

Irvine smiled shyly, then shook his head.

"/That's okay. I'm fine./"

The native still wasn't all too happy with himself. It would be harder to leave Irvine out in the middle of nowhere so he could go back and check on the progress of the group searching for them. At least in the cave he had been protected. Jirrah could protect a cave entrance, but one Gayla would never be enough to protect all sides.

For the first time since this venture had began, Zell wasn't sure what to do. He knew they would be at least a day ahead of the party, but without backtracking to check, he couldn't know how safe they were. And he needed to rest himself. In this case, it would be better if he had help. But he had something to prove, and he was going to prove it. It would be alright. He could stay with Irvine tonight, and tomorrow they would reach the shelter he was aiming for. It wasn't nearly so good as the previous one, but it would have to do.

"Zell…?"

"/Yes/"

"/Why me…/"

Zell glanced over at him, watching as he set out the furs for them, then he went over to the cowboy, bringing the Snow Lion pelt around Irvine's shoulders. The cowboy leaned towards him and he gladly slipped an arm around his waist, drawing him in close.

"/You're beautiful/"

"/Beauty is for she-folk/" Irvine reminded him, but he only chuckled.

"/Don't understand. Have grown up in life that shelters you from some things. Beautiful in a way she-folk could never have./"

Zell ran his hands under the fur, along the curves of Irvine's hips, up his waist and sides, then down his arms, along his thighs.

"/Built to be a taken. Delicate, but strong. Supple. Elegant./

Irvine dropped his eyes, but Zell could tell he was flattered.

"/I'm a what? I can't understand that word./"

Zell smirked, then chose his words the best he could to explain.

"/When with she-folk, she is _taken_./"

Irvine stared at him.

"/You're callin' me _she-folk_/"

"/No. Very no. Taken not a word used only for she-folk. Just explaining. When _you_ with a woman, she is taken, you are taker…/" The smirk grew and Zell leaned close, nosing along Irvine's jaw to his ear, then back again, breath whispering across elegant, already parting lips. "/When you are with me… _you_ are taken, _I_… taker./"

Irvine gave a soft, shaking sigh that ended in a tiny sound somewhere between fear and longing. The native ran his palm up the inside of the cowboy's thigh, and Irvine's lips and teeth parted further as he took his breath back in a tiny gasp. That was the reaction Zell had been looking for and a quick tongue dipped gently within the cowboy's mouth, tasting him briefly before the native followed with his lips, capturing Irvine's.

The cowboy didn't even flinch, and Zell was proud of him for that.

He took a long time over the kiss, making it slow and deep so that Irvine had every chance to examine it – if he could think, that was. After all, it was a particularly good kiss, of course. His hand came up from the cowboy's thigh to his jaw, drawing him further into the kiss, and Zell ran his tongue along the one beneath it, coaxing a response. It didn't take long for his taken to catch on; they were soon both contributing.

Irvine made a low sound, like a pleased Torama, and Zell would have smirked were it not for his mouth being occupied in far better pursuits. A hand came to his shoulder, then slid to curl around the back of his neck – a silent _don't stop_. So he stopped, drawing away from the kiss. Irvine looked at him in a sort of daze, then he surprised Zell by pulling him back again for a hungrier, needier repeat.

The native was hard pressed to deny him. Indeed, he indulged the cowboy for a few seconds, tongue plunging within the willing mouth, before he drew himself back under control and pulled away.

Irvine licked a lower lip slightly swollen into an almost-pout and offered him a smile he thought could well have been seductive – but it was likely the firelight. Zell swallowed, finding that the stirring deep his belly which was a constant whenever he was near the cowboy worked into a veritable storm. Ai! It took everything he had not to just take what he thought his pretty prize may well be offering him. But he could _not_ let Irvine control this. A little leeway and any taken could be lead to think he had the upper hand, especially one not aware of the proper laws of behaviour.

A reminder was certainly in order.

"/Lay down/" he said softly, and knew by the swiftness with which Irvine did as he was told that the cowboy thought certain things were going to occur. _No. You aren't in control here, my cowboy. One kiss from you isn't going to have _my_ knees trembling as it does a female. Oh no._

He ran a hand down the center of Irvine's body, throat to navel, then back up again, marveling at the smoothness of his skin, and how it turned to honey in the firelight. He truly was a beautiful sight, worthy of Zell.

- - - - - - -

The native's gaze grew predatory and Irvine's breath hitched at the way it raked his form. Just that look was enough to join the pooling heat between his legs and he shifted, wanting Zell to _do_ something. The kisses weren't enough.

"/Be still/" Zell growled and Irvine stilled, swallowing.

The hand stroked down his body again, this time going beyond his navel, but lifting free of his body to ghost over where he most wanted to be touched. The native flicked the loincloth up and Irvine closed his eyes, knowing a blush was creeping across his cheeks.

Zell touched a fingertip to the very end, drawing a shaking half-gasp from Irvine, and he held it there until the cowboy finally opened his eyes, eaten alive with curiosity – _why_ wasn't he doing more!

The native met his eyes with a look of pure arrogance and shifted the fingertip gently. A whimper clawed free of Irvine's throat.

"/You _are_ a taken. _My_ taken/" Zell said, then he smirked and took his hands away, using them to tuck the Snow Lion pelt around Irvine's body. "/Sleep now. Dream./"

Irvine stared at him, dumbstruck.

"/Wh-what… but… I…/"

Zell crouched over him, an Alpha, dominant position, and he showed his teeth, lip curling slightly.

"/Taken, Irvine. Do as I say. This is Old Law. You follow Old Law, now, and to do so means to follow my wishes. You will remember./" Zell touched the feather in Irvine's hair, then brushed a brief, unfulfilling kiss across his lips before he was gone to sit by the fire.

Irvine was silent for a long few moments, then he spoke softly.

"/You aren't sleeping here…/" He indicated the furs, meaning with himself.

Zell smiled.

"/Am. But not yet. Soon, I will join you. Close your eyes now. Tomorrow, we must travel again./"

And Zell left him no option but to obey, because he broke into a low hum that soon became a soft, rhythmic song. Irvine couldn't pick out many words. The lilting nature of the song made it difficult, and he was tired from traveling and… the kisses.

He drifted off to sleep with Zell's taste on his lips and his voice in his ears.

- - - - - - -

(1) Nope. Don't know jack about pressure points…

Author's Notes: Wow… Only one footnote… That's surprising. Hope you had fun! I did. grins


	7. Warned

Warnings: Yaoi, slash, of course. Native Zell, bad language, the usual stuff that makes everyone love this fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Squaresoft characters or any of their affiliates, but I do own the plotline and the personalities of Whipcrack, Shir'nis and Jirrah. I also own Dylan and Bobby – but you can have them if you like. I don't make any money off this fic, only fans.

Pairings: Seriously…

Author's Notes: Anonymous from gundam-wing-fanfiction, you're slightly nutty. Obsessed and nutty. It's rare that I update more often than fortnightly or so… In fact, just a warning, but I don't know when the next update will be. I'm going home and the internet access is shaky at the moment, since we moved house. But fear not! I won't have disappeared.

On to the fic! As usual /indicated native speak/.

_**Mine. – **KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Seven – Warned._

"It's all…" Squall murmured, then swore and whistled through his teeth in a way most unlike him. But Seifer knew how he felt.

They'd found Irvine's clothes and his gun, along with most of Lightning's tack stashed under a pile of rocks some thirty minute's ride from the cave they were currently in. The only reason they'd found it was because Seifer had been so bored and frustrated with finding no clues that he'd started throwing rocks to pass the time, and he'd happened to dislodge the top one, which set them all falling and revealed the flash of dark metal that gave away Irvine's gun. There were no tears in the clothing, only dust, and it was evident they had been disposed of and then, on a second thought, hidden away.

"Sure'n all these signs scream 'savage', Sheriff," Bobby drawled, indicating the burnt-out fire, dried pitch, old animal skins and various other leavings within the cave.

"Don't mean that's got anythin' teh do with 'is clothes, but," Dylan reasoned, though he sounded disbelieving of his own words.

Seifer's spine crawled. His hunch was confirmed and it made him nervy thinking about it. What would a savage want with one Irvine Kinneas? If they had come across one another by accident, surely someone would have ended up dead. That bespoke planning, even kidnapping, but what in Hyne's name would be the point?

If the savages meant to bargain, to keep the land they were slowly losing, then taking Irvine was an exercise in futility. His family wasn't rich, and they owned one of the smallest ranches in the area. He also wasn't important enough to call the attention of anyone richer or more important than his own family. It didn't make sense.

Squall shook his head and ran his gloved fingers through his dusty hair, then shrugged his shoulders.

"At any rate," he said slowly, tugging absently at the cuff of his red-brown deer-hide jacket. "They've been gone long enough for the coals to go stone cold and this pitch to dry solid. At least a few hours." He swept his hat back onto his head and glanced at Seifer.

"We're not hanging around here," the Sheriff said instantly to the unspoken question. "We've got to get as far as we can before sunset."

Bobby had disappeared, but as the three of them left the cave, he came striding back through the trees, a grin on his face.

"Bet our savage weren't happy he had to move on. I'd reckon he scouted out 'n' saw us a-comin', or there ain't no way he'd've left. Cave here's the perfect place. Come see what I found."

He waved a hand and turned to head back the way he'd come. The others looked at each other, then followed after him. When they reached the hot lake, Seifer heard Squall groan in appreciation – man always had been a sucker for a hot bath.

"Shit. Will yer lookit that…" Dylan murmured, whistling lowly.

Bobby nodded.

"Constant water supply, cave's nice 'n' closed in – stay warm as toast – and then there's this. 'N' we know game's purdy good 'round here."

"Seifer…"

"Squall?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of Seifer's mouth – he knew what Squall was going to ask for.

"We've got time for a swim, don't we? Obviously whoever's got Irvine isn't going to do anything too vicious anytime soon…"

Dylan was already leaping naked into the hot water.

"Guess we do," Seifer said with a raised brow. Who was he to turn Squall down if the Deputy wanted to get naked and wet…? "Nosiree, not me…" the Sheriff muttered, smirking slightly.

"What was that?" Squall asked, looking sidelong at Seifer partway through undoing his dark, dark jeans.

"Nothing at all, Squall. Nothing at all."

They were soon all four of them splashing about in the water with no idea that dark eyes watched them.

- - - - - - -

They were just preparing to move off the next morning, having woken quite contentedly in each others' arms, when a blow-dart hissed through the air, only missing Irvine because Zell saw it coming and threw himself at the cowboy, pressing him to the ground. He crouched over his charge and showed his teeth, hand inching towards the pouch at his belt, where his own blow-pipe was nestled.

"/I'd refrain, if I were you…/" Kiros' voice came clearly to them both and he and three other dark-skinned natives melted out of the trees.

Zell crouched lower, covering as much of Irvine's body as he could without lowering his guard. The cowboy lay still beneath him, save for a tremble that coursed through his frame every minute or so. He was afraid. And he should be, Zell thought, visions of that elegant throat slit to scarlet flashing across the backs of his eyes.

"/What do you _want_, Kiros! I'm moving _away_ from your lands/"

"/They come for him/" Kiros said, showing his own teeth and puffing out his chest in a conscious show of intimidation and domination. Zell didn't back down or move from his protective position and his eyes flashed rebelliously at Kiros.

"/They come after _us_. It makes no difference to you. They won't come near your lands./"

Jirrah appeared from some dark hidey-hole even Zell hadn't seen, and the Gayla's short fuzz-fur stood on end, wing-fins mantling. He hissed and one of the braves' tight-drawn bow settled upon him.

"/Jirrah/" Zell snapped, fearful for the Gayla's life. "/Be calm. All is well./"

Jirrah made his low, wet purring sound, but harsher, firmer – a growl. He floated over to Zell's side and the native reluctantly stood, waving the Gayla to take up his protective position. If he must lose one of them, he would rather it be Jirrah than his cowboy.

"/All is not well/" Kiros spat, the Cockatrice tail-pinions in his hair clattering and hissing against one another when he made an almost violent gesture in Zell's direction. "/You bring down these men upon us, all for foolish pride. Slit the creature's throat now and be done with it. It will never please you./"

Zell slit his eyes and strutted two steps forward. How _dare_ Kiros tell him what to do with his property, his taken! Chief or not, the choice was not his.

"/I bring _nothing_ down upon you, only upon myself. We're well away from the camp. We're no threat to you./"

Body language and gestures were exchanged, each man reminding the other of his dominance, in different areas. When Zell refused to back down, Kiros snarled, and it was only Old Law that protected the blonde from attack. Kiros could not touch him without due provocation or cause and, despite what the Chief said, there was no cause.

"/It will bite you, in the end, Zell. It cannot be trained. You'll fail and it will go back to its people, and they _will_ kill you./"

Zell crouched a little, holding himself ready to attack and making sure Kiros knew it. He _did_ have cause. Despite Kiros' place in their tribe, he still had no right to come into another man's place and start making demands. Impermanent or not, this was his place, and he would defend it, and his property, if Kiros forced it of him.

"/You are _looking_ for me to fail, Kiros. You _want_ reason to throw me out. You've wanted reason since the moment you laid eyes on me. Even now, you think you can use this to get rid of me. I'm taking him away from my people for their sake, not yours. I don't care if the Outsiders take _your_ life. You're only endangering yourself and these braves by being here./"

Kiros' eyes flashed and he showed his teeth again, out of habit more than the belief that it would have any effect. Zell only returned the gesture, and growled from the back of his throat. Two of the three braves took a step backward.

"/You won't dispose of it…/" Kiros wondered dangerously.

"/No. I'll keep _him_./"

"/Then I will slit its throat myself/" Kiros snarled. "/You can't protect it all the time./"

"/And you can't stay away from camp for too long. Go home, Kiros. Go home./"

Zell lowered his body further, muscles tense and twitching, and he only wasn't throwing himself at the Chief because he respected the Old Laws and the very position of Chief, even if he didn't respect Kiros himself. If the man took _one step_ towards Irvine, Zell would kill him.

Kiros curled his lip in disdain and turned his back, a rude but easily understood gesture.

"/You'll have to bring it to camp eventually, if you want it recognised as a taken, and yours at that. Be certain that gaining the HeartSeer's (1) approval will not be easy for you, youngling./" He spat the last word as an insult, then stalked off into the trees, waving his braves to come after him. All four soon disappeared.

Zell snarled and threw the nearest available object – a lump of rock – in the direction Kiros had come. Why must he pester and interfere! Zell knew what he was doing! He knew he had been right when he said Kiros was _looking_ for a way to get rid of him, but he had broken none of the Old Laws – and would break none.

He took three deep breaths and turned to face Irvine, around whom Jirrah was now securely wrapped. He looked afraid, but desperate to hide it. His pride made Zell proud. The native's face softened at the sight of him – how could it not? He was so beautiful, strong, elegant and, Zell was sure, passionate.

Oh! How he wanted to lay Irvine down and give him the pleasure he deserved, make him arch and cry out and plead. To take his own pleasure in the giving. But they were too vulnerable here. He would have an arrow or a blow-dart in his unprotected back while he took what was his.

To say the least, that would certainly ruin the mood…

Zell went over to Irvine and offered a hand. They still needed to move onwards. If Kiros and his braves had seen the group searching for Irvine, and come here following, surely they couldn't be more than a few hours behind.

Zell only hoped this new shelter would be hidden enough to keep them safe without having to keep on the move. While it was a treat to watch his cowboy swing so easily with the movement of the chocobo, they couldn't talk properly, and there was a lot he wished to teach his newest taken. There were proper tasks and behaviours Irvine would need to know.

They packed swiftly and were soon off again, Jirrah weaving among the trees, appearing and disappearing as he pleased.

- - - - - - -

After they'd been riding for a little while, and Irvine grew bored with the endless and repetitive scenery of _trees_, he spoke.

"/Why want me, when it causes trouble for you/"

Zell glanced over his shoulder at Irvine, eyes veiled, then he returned his gaze forward and Irvine wondered what he was hiding. It wasn't the first time he'd wondered it, and the conversation this morning had given fuel to that wondering.

"/Impossible not to want you/" Zell said after a long moment of silence, but there was more to it, Irvine was sure.

"/Why not one of your own kind/"

At this, Zell gave a strange snort of laughter that Irvine thought might well be sarcastic. He wished he could see the native's face, and to that end, he kneed Whipcrack forward, bringing him alongside Shir'nis and Zell. The native looked at him, arching a golden brow, but didn't send him back. Irvine watched him struggling for a long moment before he reluctantly spoke again.

"/My own kind, as you say, are none of them beautiful as you, and certainly not special as you./"

"/Special/" It was Irvine's turn to arch a brow. "/What's special about me/"

Zell looked at him then, with eyes that were faintly sorrowful, then it cleared and he smiled, reaching out to pat the sharpshooter's cheek.

"/You will see. Now, worry only about traveling. Worry only about me./"

Irvine rolled his eyes slightly. It seemed everything was about Zell. (2) But then, it was hard to worry about much else when all there was to see were trees, Zell, chocobos, trees, Gayla, trees, Zell. To say that Zell was probably the most interesting thing to see would be an understatement.

As they traveled, Zell taught him some more obscure words and broadened his knowledge of the native's language. He was surprised himself at how quickly he'd picked it up, and how easy it was now to speak it. Then again, there wasn't much else to _do_ as well as _see_, so he supposed it wasn't really so surprising.

Zell halted them at midday and went about teaching Irvine more about hunting. They caught their lunch, cooking it, then ate while they rode.

"/You always only eat Grat/" Irvine wondered, arching a brow when Zell gave a chuckle.

"/No/" the native said after swallowing his latest bite, a laugh in the word.

"/But I haven't seen you catch anything else./"

"/You'll be upset if I tell you/" Zell asserted, still smirking. By now he was licking his fingers clean and Irvine was momentarily distracted by watching the native's tongue.

"/No I won't/" he said after a longer-than-necessary pause and a shake of his head to clear it.

"/Will. Although, comforting would be enjoyable./"

Irvine blinked, then pretended he hadn't heard that, and persisted.

"/Why? Why have I only seen you hunt Grats/"

Zell gave a longsuffering sigh, settling his hands back in his lap, and he looked solemnly at Irvine. The cowboy blinked a few times at him, all sorts of ideas on what Zell might be about to tell him meandering through his mind.

"/Too loud./"

Irvine frowned, totally uncomprehending.

"/What…/"

"/Grats can't hear. They're deaf. You make noise enough to scare off anything else. Grats is all I can hunt with you./"

The cowboy stared at him, then flushed and looked away, embarrassed at this revelation. He thought he'd been getting better today. Zell's warmest chuckle slid down his spine and the native came over to him, patting his shoulder.

"/Sorry/" Irvine said. "/I'm surprised you haven't got rid of me by now, what with being chased because of me and, like, not being able to hunt properly./"

The native shook his head.

"/Grats are good enough food. You'll get better, it takes a long time. It took me many days, many weeks. You can't expect to know instantly and you've already learned to speak very well./"

Irvine smiled at the compliment, turning his eyes shyly to the native. He'd realised it wouldn't be appreciated – proper, probably – if he initiated any contact between them, but he desperately wanted Zell to kiss him right then. He hesitated, then wondered softly;

"/Will you kiss me/"

Zell cocked his head and a smirk curved his lips. He cupped Irvine's chin and drew him forward a little. The cowboy was already parting his lips and he shivered when the native's tongue dipped gently within before his mouth captured Irvine's own. He realised Zell must rather like that way of kissing. So did he.

The native's hand came to his waist and Irvine was just glad they were both such good riders, or there was no doubt they would have fallen off. Irvine already felt as though the ground had fallen out from beneath him. His stomach leapt, then settled into a low, simmering almost-fire, warming further when Zell's hand smoothed up the thigh closest to him. His tongue met the native's, a heady, addictive feeling, and one of his own hands went to Zell's shoulder.

The native broke away long before Irvine would have wished it and licked his lips, reaching out to brush his fingertips along the cowboy's lower one.

"/You're eager for me. I am pleased/" he said, smirking a little and Irvine found he had a small smile to offer in return. He liked the thought of pleasing Zell, whatever that pleasing might entail.

Right on the heels of that realisation came the one that it was an altogether too _female_ thought. (3) Dammit! Zell was confusing everything and making it all _weird_. Whoever heard of two men doing… being… Whoever heard of it anyway!

Irvine looked away, cursing himself, now, for asking what he had of Zell. He was supposed to be _resisting_ these strange urges, and he should never have behaved the way he did when he woke up in Zell's arms. Never mind that it felt… well, good. It just couldn't happen anymore. He _would_ resist!

Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion whomever 'they' were that Kiros had talked about 'they' were coming after him. Of course the town would have sent someone by now – he'd been gone three days. Was it only that long?

He settled into a melancholy silence, watching Zell's back and thinking of home and how strange his life had become since he left. He forced himself to keep away from thinking any thoughts involving himself, Zell, touching and sweat.

It was harder than he thought it might be.

- - - - - - -

Of course, the next morning, Seifer regretted the selfish urge that had lead him to let Squall Leonhart get naked and go for a swim. They had wasted the rest of the afternoon, and camped in the cave they'd found, and now the trail was even harder to follow. Whether or not it was a product of the time they'd wasted, Seifer still blamed that. He pushed the others mercilessly, snappish and standoffish, which inevitably began to irritate Bobby, Dylan and even the possibly un-irritatable Squall.

By about lunch time, said Deputy snapped.

"Seifer! It's over! It's done with. We maybe made a mistake, but beating _us_ up about it isn't going to help Irvine! Nor is beating yourself up so _get over it_ and be a decent leader. Stop taking it out on us!"

Seifer snapped back.

"It's _your_ fault, Leonhart! If you hadn't wanted _so badly_ to go for a fucking _swim_, we wouldn't be having this argument!"

Squall growled, quite unlike himself.

"If I remember rightly it was _Dylan_ in the water first, and besides that you could easily have said no!" He reined Dot closer, dropping his voice to a vicious hiss so the other two couldn't hear it. "And don't think I don't _know_ why you said yes, either, _Sheriff_. Did you enjoy the view?"

Seifer's righteous anger deflated at that and he looked away, ashamed of himself. Squall was right. He had no one to blame but himself. The Deputy's hand came to his shoulder and, when he glanced up, Squall gave him a slight smile.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Seifer, even you. Let's just get on with it, okay?"

Seifer was mildly surprised. Not only was it the most words he thought he'd ever heard Squall say in the space of five minutes, that last part was the _nicest_ thing he'd ever heard Squall say. He couldn't help but smile back, if only because a smile actually looked kind of funny on Squall's face.

"If you two're, like, done with yer manly bondin'…" Bobby drawled. "We should probably get goin'…"

Seifer glared at Bobby, but the man was grinning teasingly. Squall just rolled his eyes and pulled his chocobo's head around to follow Bobby. Seifer followed Squall.

They found few clues that day to let them know whether or not they were on the right track, but Seifer's gut was leading him and, since his gut had been right about the savage in the first place, he was inclined to obey it. He was reluctant to stop at all, even well after the sun had set, but it was dangerous for the birds and for them, a low-hanging tree-branch or kamikaze creature real worries.

The mood had been subdued their second night, but it was even more so now. They all knew they only had enough food to keep them for two, three more days at the most, and it would take them at least a day, probably more, to trek back in a direct line to the town. There was only so much they could hunt, and they all knew the savage would know the place like the back of his hand and be easily able to find enough to feed himself and his captive.

They settled down to sleep much earlier, so they could wake much earlier, and it took Seifer a long time of tossing and turning to finally drift off.

- - - - - - -

(1) Is this not a cool word! Well, it's better than the stereotypical "Matchmaker", which I originally had, and was saved from by the inventions of – yep, you guessed it – Hicky. What _would_ I do without her? Well… I probably wouldn't be writing this fic at all.

(2) In the words of The Great Zell-Puppeteer Hicky: "S'all 'bout the fighter!" Or… in this case, the native.

(3) No, I'm not a male chauvinist. Pretty damn hard when I'm a female… It was the thinking of the time I'm… sort of… loosely… portraying in this whacked out fic.

Author's Note: Yay! Kiros! I love Kiros so much, but he's so mean in this fic! I'm sorry Kiros! schnoogles him  
Kiros: Get… it… off… me!


	8. Beaten

Warnings Yaoi, of course, Zell's ego… Nightmares, bad language, blahblah… If you're still reading this fic, you don't mind any of this anyway!

Pairings: Yeah…

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Final Fantasy cast, but I do own everything else, so if you take it, be prepared for a horrible, horrible death by drowning in Gayla-spit hair gel.

Author's Notes: Sorry it's taken so long! We had no internet/cries/ It's so sad to be without internet! But here it is! Here it is! Do enjoy, won't you!

/This here/ as you ought to know, is native speak.

**_Mine. – _**_KittyMeowMaxwell_

_Chapter Eight – Beaten._

_Whispers. That was how it always started. Whispers he couldn't quite understand, though he knew they were talking about him. Backs turned to him, ridiculing him, laughing, joking, pointing, grimacing._

_Shouting._

_He cringed and tried to hide from them, but there was nowhere to hide, in his dreams, in his mind. It tore into him, a long-lived pain that he couldn't escape._

"_Wrong."_

"_Sinful."_

"_So arrogant, too!"_

"_Disgusting…"_

"_Don't touch him!"_

"_Horrible."_

"_He must be disturbed!"_

_They were nameless, faceless shadows, chasing him to a point where he was certain there could be no return. His gun invited him, beckoned, crooned. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth._

_This was the only way to free himself, to get away, to hide. He knew, now, there was no place for him. He was too strange, too different, too twisted and wrong._

"_Seifer."_

_He flinched, fingertip twitching on the trigger._

"_Seifer! No!"_

_No? But what else was there? It was the only real answer, the only real release._

"_Seifer!"_

"_Seifer…"_

_- - - - - - -_

"Seifer!"

He awoke with a start and a twitch, sweat on his brow and his heart in his mouth. It took a long few moments for him re-orient, and realise Squall wasn't jerking the pistol from his mouth and wrestling it away from him, wasn't holding him as he sobbed and begged and pleaded to just end it all. His gun was safe in its holster, Squall's face steely as ever above him, but he could see the worry in the storm-coloured eyes.

"Squall?"

"You were dreaming again."

Seifer shuddered. He remembered how he'd gotten to that point, how desperate he had been. He remembered how, after taking the gun from him that first time, Squall had basically been forced to baby sit him for three months, to keep him from doing the same thing. That was the time he'd let himself believe his Deputy and friend might… but Squall had gently rejected him, careful with his fragile psyche.

_Hyne, you're beautiful…_ Seifer thought painfully, then shook his head to clear it of such thoughts.

"Thanks…" he murmured. "Glad you woke me." He sat up, running a gloved hand through golden hair and swallowed. "It's worse if it goes… if…" He trailed off, then glanced at Squall. "In the dream… sometimes you don't stop me…"

Squall drew him close and hugged him tightly, Seifer, as always, surprised at the act of kindness, but glad of it. He let the Deputy hold him, though it galled him to let anyone see his weaknesses. He hoped Dylan and Bobby were still sleeping – assumed they still were, or there would be no way Squall would let _his_ guard down so much.

"I'll always stop you," Squall said fiercely. "You're my best friend."

"I remember a time when we hated each other," Seifer said as they separated and Squall chuckled ruefully, nodding his head.

"I thought you were an arrogant know-all, too young to have the Sheriff's badge when I only had the Deputy's."

"Well, I _was_ an arrogant know-all."

"You mean you are," Squall said in a deadpan voice that only served to make the comment funnier.

Seifer chuckled and shook his head.

"Watch it, Deputy."

"Or what?"

"I'll give your badge to Knightly."

"Sure. I believe that. You going to go back to sleep?"

Seifer shifted, running a hand through his hair and lowered his eyes.

"No… I… don't think so. I might just go for a walk."

"You want company?"

_Yes. But more than you're willing to let me have, so…_

"No. I'll be fine. Go on back to sleep. I'll wake you soon as the sun rises, anyway, and we all know how much of a morning person you're _not_."

Squall swatted him lightly, then headed back to his own bedroll, curling up a little under his covers and grousing about how they'd got cold. Seifer considered offering to help warm them up for him, but discarded the idea and headed off into the trees. He had to stop thinking those things, or it was going to get him into serious trouble with his best friend.

- - - - - - -

That night, as they reached the cave Zell had been aiming for, the native relaxed somewhat. This was much harder to find than the last one, and Zell was fairly confidant the tall man and his group would _not_ be able to find them. He would go back later, leaving Jirrah to take care of his cowboy, and erase their trail, then lay some false ones.

Between the two of them, it took only a few moments for them to set the cave up as the previous one had been, then Irvine curled up in the furs, watching as Zell made and lit a fire.

Firelight truly did the cowboy wonders. It stroked his skin, gilding it, painting it to gold and throwing fingers of shadow across it. It was getting harder and harder – in more ways than one – to ignore his wants. He wanted Irvine, wanted to taste his skin and feel his pulse under his tongue, be it in his throat or in his arousal. He wanted to hear him moan and see him go wild beneath him.

It plagued his dreams, and their sleeping beneath the same fur wasn't helping any. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He didn't know if he would make it to tomorrow morning.

Maybe he could satisfy himself with a kiss or three, but he doubted it. He knew his own body, and he knew a kiss would only make him want _more_.

Zell occupied himself getting their dinner ready and hanging the weavings around to soften the walls, doing it all in the most strutting and show-off way possible. And his cowboy watched him the entire time, trying, he knew, to sneak a peek beneath Zell's loincloth.

Well, it was truly worth a look, if he did say so himself, which, of course, he did. Ah, yes. Irvine would squirm at having Zell inside of him. There was no feeling, the native was sure, to compare to it. There couldn't be, because there was no one to compare to him. He was strong, he was capable, and a stunning lover. Irvine would be satisfied with no one else after he had experienced Zell.

When they'd finished eating, Irvine looked expectant in a way that almost made Zell give in. He wanted to take his taken. _Oh_, how he wanted to. But no. He could not let his guard down. Not yet. Tonight, he had to check on their pursuers and lay false trails, eradicating the one true one.

He taught Irvine how to fletch an arrow, laughing with him at the myriad of failed attempts, especially when the native tried to send one flying out the cave mouth, but it whistled strangely and heeled to one side, pinging off the edge of the stone and ricocheting off at a wild angle to hit Jirrah side-on. The Gayla gave a burbling yelp and burrowed under the furs. They decided not to test anymore of Irvine's fletched arrows for a while yet, though, after an hour or so of doing it, he started to get better.

The focused concentration soon wore him out, however, and Zell noticed his eyes begin to droop. He didn't want to stop, in fact, he was forced to physically remove the tools from Irvine's hands in order to get him to. He smiled at his cowboy, brushing a kiss along his temple as he lay down under the Snow-Lion pelt, shoving Jirrah aside a bit.

Irvine's eyes were already flickering closed, but he murmured a complaint when the native moved to go back to his work.

"/You are safe/" he assured Irvine, touching his silky hair.

He adored Irvine's hair. Many men and women of his people wore their hair long, but it was nearly all dark-hued, and much thicker, coarser. Irvine's was smooth and light, and fell beautifully about his shoulders. The cowboy didn't like sleeping with it down, Zell could tell, but he would get used to it, because there was no way the native would have it otherwise and, of course, what he decided was what happened. He knew his taken was starting to understand that.

"/I know… I just…/"

- - - - - - -

It was hard to remember he was supposed to be resisting the needy, wanting urges the native made him feel, and Irvine forced himself to stop speaking, to pretend like it didn't matter. He had been going to tell Zell he felt lonely. They had traveled through so much forest today, it made him feel small, and he dearly wanted the native to hold him, remind him that he wasn't the only human on the planet.

Zell's hand was soft in his hair, and Irvine sighed.

"/You what…/" the native wondered gently, fingers going deeper in an almost massaging motion.

"/Nothing…/" Irvine murmured, hearing that his own words were slightly slurred from tiredness and the soothing touch. "/I'm fine… Are you… Are you going to, like, sleep here tonight… with me…/"

He tried to tell himself he didn't sound hopeful, that he was only gathering information so he could prepare himself for the event.

"/Of course. Where else would I sleep? You belong beside me./"

Irvine smiled, and he was too tired to remind himself he shouldn't. He sighed, relaxing under the stroke of Zell's hand and the purr of the Gayla by his thigh. He was asleep in minutes, tired out by traveling all day and then concentrating on the fletching.

- - - - - - -

"/Jirrah/" Zell whispered sharply, and the Gayla slipped out from under the furs, making Irvine murmur wordless protest. "/Take care of him/" the native told Jirrah, then ushered him over to lay atop the furs, over Irvine. The Gayla settled down, but didn't close his eyes.

Zell tiptoed silently out of the cave and whistled softly to Shir'nis. She came, Whipcrack on her tail, and the native wagged a finger at Irvine's chocobo.

"/No./"

He warbled softly as Shir'nis bent and proffered her wing for Zell to climb up and the native was surprised when Whipcrack mimicked her. He looked so mournful when they were ready to leave, that Zell gave in.

"/Alright, but be quiet. No singing./"

They set off into the night, following their own tracks back between the trees. It was easier and faster to travel without Irvine and things to carry.

Again, Zell heard their followers before he saw them, two of them in low conversation. He slid from Shir'nis' back and told her to stay. Whipcrack, he told more forcefully, but the gold bird seemed to understand well enough. Maybe Shir'nis was rubbing off on him.

The native stepped through the shadows, silent and swift. His bare feet made the smallest whisper of sound every so often, and his fingers brushed lightly against leaves and tall grasses, but that was it.

"…alright?"

Zell parted the bushes a little and saw two of the group were awake, one sitting up in his bedroll, the other just returning to his. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing a little.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He has nightmares sometimes… It's a long story, anyway, and it isn't my business to be telling you, Bobby."

"If the Sheriff's unstable, or-"

The brunette cut across the other's words, sounding angry.

"He isn't _unstable_. Everyone has nightmares."

"I guess…"

"Go back to sleep. Trust me, I've been his Deputy for a long time now, and I know him. He's fine."

The other grumbled a little, but he lay back down and Zell showed his teeth in a feral grin. His hand dropped, touching his thigh briefly, then moving up to the little pouch at his hip. From it, he withdrew his blowpipe and a dart. There was a soft sound as he slipped the dart into the pipe. It was time for a warning.

The pipe came to Zell's lips and the dart whispered in deadly silence through the darkness. He didn't need to see it to know it had hit its intended target. He returned his blowpipe and shifted, starting to stand.

Cold, cold metal pressed into the base of his skull and his eyes widened, fingers flexing against the ground. Surely, surely there was only one thing that would feel like that against his skin.

"Where's Irvine, savage?" a voice growled, soft and dangerous.

Zell's tongue darted out to wet his lips and he hissed. Yes, he had been foolish not to notice there was one missing from the group, but still. Did this man think he could honestly best _him_? Even with a gun to his skull, he was more than a match for Tall-and-Blonde.

"I _said_ where is he!" The snarl was accompanied by a jerk of the pistol, grating against his bone in a way that made a dull ache begin at the point where it pressed. He heard a click, and knew the gun was cocked.

_This_ man's arrogance was his undoing, Zell thought dispassionately as he moved, fast as a striking Anacondaur, hand flashing up to catch the wrist that held the gun. His very isolation was his downfall. The native jerked and twisted, satisfied the ugly _pop_ of a dislocating thumb. Tall-and-Blonde bit back a yelp – foolish. He didn't want his companions to know he had been so easily overpowered. Embarrassment was his second mistake. The gun fell from his fingers and Zell's other hand came up to his jaw, laying him out flat with an – obviously – impressive display of skill.

He still held the wrist and, as he placed a foot in the center of Tall-and-Blonde's chest, he pulled upward, threatening to dislocate more than a thumb.

Jade eyes glared up at him and he smirked.

"Irvine…" he told the downed man. "_Mine_."

He reached down, a hand curling around Tall-and-Blonde's throat, and pressed his thumb and forefinger to two vulnerable pressure points. (1) The man passed out and Zell grinned, dropping the wrist he held.

Now, they would have to turn back. He had beaten their leader, and staked his claim, and they could not argue that. They had no right to come for Irvine. Zell's dominance and right to ownership were proven.

Although…

Zell dusted off his hands and went back to Shir'nis and Whipcrack, frowning slightly. These were not his people. Irvine had already shown a misunderstanding of his place and the proper behaviour and there could be no guarantee that, even though Tall-and-Blonde now knew who was the better, he would just go away. The chocobos moved silently, heading for the cave while he thought.

The native growled and touched Shir'nis' shoulder suddenly, reverting back to his original plan of wiping out their trail and laying false ones. He should have killed that man when he had the chance, he realised, but it was too late to go back now.

No matter. He was still much smarter than them.

He spent roughly half the night making certain the group would spend days chasing their own tails, then returned to the cave, adding a couple of logs to the dying fire, then slipping beneath the Snow-Lion pelt.

Irvine half-opened his eyes and the sleepy, happy smile he offered warmed the native more than any fire ever would. Zell drew him close, watching the cowboy's lips already part in half-aware asking.

Ah, so beautiful.

Irvine struggled to understand the new feelings and needs, Zell knew, but in this state, his body took over. The native wasn't one to deny him, and he knew these encounters would only whet the cowboy's appetite further. He dipped his tongue gently within the offered mouth, taking it for a soft, slow kiss.

His taken made a small, wordless sound, tongue running willingly along Zell's own in silent encouragement. It started gentle, exploratory, but it soon grew hungry. Irvine's fingers flexed against his shoulder and his own hand went to the cowboy's hip, pulling them into closer contact.

"Zell…" Irvine whispered into his mouth when they parted for breath, and it brought him back to his senses.

He was tired, Irvine was half asleep and now was not the time. Now was the time for sleeping.

"Irvine…" he murmured back, stroking red-gold away from pale neck. "/Not yet./"

"/But-/"

"Shh. /Now is not the time. I… I am tired/" he admitted and after a moment, Irvine chuckled at that.

"/I thought you maybe don't get tired./"

"/Not often/" Zell replied with a grin.

"/Arrogant/" Irvine said, then sighed. "/But… I…/"

"/Tomorrow/" the native suddenly promised on impulse. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer anyway, and he was loathe to do so. The cowboy wanted him, that much was obvious, and they were both hungry for one another. "/Tomorrow, I'll show you how beautiful you are./"

Irvine snorted a little, but he was smiling.

"/But not in a she-folk way/" he hazarded.

"/Definitely not she-folk/" Zell agreed, tucking the fur tighter around both of them. "/Sleep. Dream./"

The cowboy nodded obediently and tucked his head down against Zell's bicep, eyes flickering shut. He'd hardly woken up, so it was bare moments before he was sleeping again.

Zell wondered if he would be so agreeable to things when he was fully awake…

- - - - - - -

Squall stirred and automatically glanced over to Seifer's bedroll. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, certain his eyes must be lying to him. The morning sun painted the trees and the dead fire a soft gold-orange, displaying for the Deputy's eyes that, yes, Seifer _was_ still gone.

His hand went automatically to the pistol resting in its holster by his pillow and he hissed at Bobby and Dylan. Dylan grumbled, burrowing deeper beneath his covers. Bobby didn't move.

"Dylan! Bobby!" he snapped lowly. "Wake up!"

Dylan grumbled some more, but he peeped, bleary-eyed, out to see what Squall wanted. The Deputy tapped his finger against his gun, then indicated Seifer's bedroll and Dylan arched an eyebrow, but went for his own pistol.

"Wake Bobby, would you?" Squall whispered. "I'm going to see if I can find the Sheriff."

Dylan nodded warily, fully awake now, and got up while Squall set off into the trees. He did an automatic circuit around the perimeter of their camp, so he came upon Seifer soon enough. He cursed softly and hurried to the Sheriff's side, pressing his ear to his chest. Seifer's heartbeat was strong and steady, his breathing deep. He seemed simply to be asleep.

Squall gave him a shake and, when that didn't rouse him, a couple of soft slaps to the cheeks. The Sheriff stirred, eyes screwing shut, then slitting open, and he hissed suddenly, drawing his right hand up against his chest and cradling it as he sat up.

"Fucking cocky _bastard_!" he exploded ferociously, surprising the hell out of Squall.

"Seifer…?"

"He was here. _Right here_! I had my gun in his _neck_, for Hyne's sake! How the hell did he… Shit, Squall, he was so fast. And strong. Damn, could have broken my arm. _Did_ dislocate my thumb." He held it out for his Deputy's perusal. "Can you pop that sucker back in for me, please?"

Squall shrugged, then calmly reached out and 'popped that sucker back in'. Seifer scorched the air with heated words, then suffered in brooding silence while the brunette splinted it.

"You'll be fine," he said flatly, then; "Who was here? Who was fast?"

"The _savage_. The one that has Irvine."

Squall arched a skeptical eyebrow.

"It could have been any savage," he pointed out, smirking when Seifer swore again at a particularly hard yank with the strong grass he was using to tie the splint. "Sorry," he said, but didn't sound it.

"Sadist… and it was him. He told me so."

"He… _told_ you…" Squall said disbelievingly. "Right. He just out and said 'Oh, by the way, I've got that man you're looking for, Irvine.' I'm sure…"

"No. He just said _mine_."

Squall blinked at him, dropping his now-splinted hand.

"Mine?"

"Yeah. He said 'Irvine. Mine.'"

"He spoke _our_ language?"

"Only the one word. Seemed to struggle a bit with it. But he was pretty fucking clear. He's _got_ Irvine and he _knows_ we're looking for Irvine. He kicked my arse," Seifer indicated the purpling bruise adorning his jaw. "Then let me know for sure he has him. I get the feeling he figured that'd be enough to make me turn around."

"That would make sense…" Squall mused.

"What…?" Seifer stared at him.

Squall made a noncommittal sound, then waved a hand.

"Before I was your Deputy, I was someone _else's_, remember?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with-"

"Shush. He was fascinated by the savages. Studied them whenever he had a spare five minutes. They have a very physically-based society. If you can beat someone else up, then you can tell them what to do, especially when it comes to people. There's an obvious divide, marked by tattooing, between sex-roles. Basically, they have a fairly loose culture when it comes to that, but if a male wants to _keep_ a female, then she doesn't get a say, and he beats off any competitors who might want to change his mind."

Seifer stared harder.

"O…kay… One, I think that's the most words I've ever heard you say in one go. Two, Irvine isn't a female."

Squall snorted.

"Seifer, you of all people ought to know that isn't the point. _They_ accept that difference in their people much more readily than we do. 'Female' is a relative term."

"Irvine isn't-"

"The savage must think he is."

"But-"

"Sheriff! Deputy! Y'all better git on over here!"

They were both jogging out of the trees in seconds.

Dylan was kneeling beside Bobby who was on his back. He'd opened Bobby's shirt and they could see every vein in sharp, livid purple relief. Each tainted vein lead back to a black-feathered dart in the man's neck. His lips were drained of blood, his eyes wide and staring, and his fingers had a death-grip on the bedroll beneath him.

"Hyne fuck me!" Seifer spat, kicking a rock so hard that it shot off, rebounded from a tree and hit Knightly in the toe, making the bird wark in protest.

"Poison," Squall muttered. "I've… seen that before… An attack… a death… A Malboro did it."

"This wasn't a Malboro, it was the savage," Seifer muttered.

"I _know_ that… but… Seifer, he got the poison from a Malboro. That means he killed one. That's no small feat. If he can kill a Malboro, he can kill us."

Seifer snarled.

"I'm not letting some backward, brainless savage beat me, Squall! You and Dylan take Bobby's body back to town, but I'm not stopping!"

Squall snorted, running his gloved hand through his hair.

"Don't be stupid. I'm coming with you. Dylan, you take Bobby on back and let them know what's going on. Tell… Tell Mr. and Mrs. Kinneas we're doing everything we can to get their boy back, but let them know… let them know where he is, that it's going to be damn difficult and we might not… Well, you get the picture. Sorry to make you have to do that."

"Don't worry none 'bout it. I've had to give bad news afore. I'll just take 'nough food to git me back to town, y'all take the rest, yeah? Bring him back, if yeh can."

They wrapped Bobby's body in his blankets and tied him as carefully as they could to his chocobo's back, then switched and changed around saddle bags until everything was balanced and most of the food was with Squall and Seifer. The Sheriff and Deputy took their hats off and paid silent respects until Dylan and Bobby were out of sight, then Seifer swung grimly into the saddle.

The savage had a lot to pay for.

- - - - - - -

(12) Bullshit? I have no idea. I never said I was working in any conceivable realm of truth here… I don't know jack about pressure points.

Author's Notes: Zell is so awesome in this fic. I love writing him _so_ much. He kicked Seifer's arse! Yeah, baby! Booyah! …Is it wrong that, upon my current re-playing of Final Fantasy X, I'm actually coming to _like_ Wakka…?


	9. Needy

Warnings: A lot. If you're still reading this fic, you should be used to it all by now.

Pairings: No brainer.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't make money off it.

Author's Notes: Sorry it's been a while. I went on holiday! Lucky me. Being without the internet sucked, though. This chapter is a little short, but the next one will make up for it, I promise.

/Native speak./

**_Mine._** – _KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Nine – Needy._

Irvine awoke from a dream of sweat-slick skin and whispering moans, groaning when he came to the awareness of a powerful thigh between his own legs, against the growing heat that resided there. He tried to draw away, but Zell's leg only came higher, rubbing slowly against him.

He let out a tiny whimper, closing his eyes tight, and stilled, a tremble running through him that he hoped wouldn't wake the native.

He was reminded all over again of how many times stronger than himself Zell was. Even sleeping, nothing about him was soft. Well… Irvine amended after a moment, blushing. _One_ thing was. But that would, of course, change if the native woke up.

He hoped the native wouldn't wake up…

But that _dream_. He couldn't remember it, but it was enough to make him hot and… tingly. What a stupid word. But that was how he felt, as though a million teeny, tiny spiders were running around under his skin. He took a few deep breaths then tried to shift away again. Zell groused in his sleep, but his leg withdrew and Irvine sighed, ignoring the part of him that was disappointed.

He squirmed a little, because the warm ache between his legs was still there, and, near as he could figure, the only female for miles around was Shir'nis, and even _he_ wasn't that desperate. …Yuck. No, he would definitely leave _that_ little delicacy to Whipcrack.

He sighed and glanced warily at Zell, then he rolled over so his back was to the native and slid a hand down under the loincloth, closing his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so desperate he'd had to… do this. His own tapered fingers wrapped around his length and he bit his lower lip, taking a moment to settle into a rhythm that satisfied him. He twitched with the effort of remaining still and quiet, ducking his head and giving a gentle sigh.

His hips bucked just a little and Zell stirred, making him still, trembling with a nervous swallow. When nothing else happened for a long heartbeat, he could resist no longer and he began to stroke again, biting even harder at his lower lip.

- - - - - - -

Zell opened his eyes and knew by the curve of Irvine's back and the tremble beneath his skin _exactly_ what he was doing. Well, he certainly wasn't one to interrupt a… _natural_ bodily function…

Evidently, his cowboy thought him still fast asleep, and it would certainly be best, he was sure, if he didn't disavow Irvine of that idea. He tensed, every dominant urge in him screaming for him to reach out and help his companion, but he knew what the reaction would be this morning at least.

A tiny whimper came from the cowboy and Zell longed to be able to see his face, but the fall of his hair around his shoulders and the way his body shivered with a desperate need to _just move_ caused that oh-so-familiar heat between the native's legs. Nevertheless, he had better control than Irvine must have and simply willed it away, refusing to let imaginings and the wonderful sight before him get the better of his body.

But he knew with a sharp clarity when Irvine groaned and shuddered head to foot with his release that he would not be able to wait much longer. He had promised the night before that today he would have Irvine, and he was going to. That the cowboy had resorted to such an action bare inches from his own supposed sleeping frame could only mean he was desperate to be touched, and touch him the native would. It was, after all, his right, and he had given Irvine enough freedom and leeway as it was.

Besides, there was no way the cowboy would be unsatisfied. He was a _good_ lover, taken had told him so before, had come back _begging_ for him to Feather their hair. Ah, yes. When he returned, he must remember to take his Feathering back. There would be no dallying with other men. Also, the cowboy would have to be Marked as soon as possible, or his ownership would be undermined. Irvine was a sexual being and many men and women would want him. There would be nothing to stop the cowboy choosing or being made to lay down for them until he was properly marked. One, Zell would not have his ownership so challenged. Two, he would not have his prize hurt by a brave who forced the issue. Three, he _would not_ give Irvine the chance to possibly discover someone _else_ and argue the Marking.

Oh, yes. Despite their inability to decide to say no if a taker chose to have them, taken could still argue it if the step of Marking was requested. It was up to the HeartSeer to say yae or nae, in the end, and if the taken argued, they were given a chance to tell their reasons. Zell would, however, prefer if Irvine _didn't_ discover that.

Wonderful as Zell was, choice was a novel thing. Given the choice, Irvine might decide to take his time to try various men and women, and Zell didn't want to wait for the cowboy to realise there would be none to match _his_ prowess and tender care.

Irvine shifted then, and rolled to his feet, padding silently out of the cave, presumably to find himself somewhere to clean up. There was a little stream nearby Zell was certain the cowboy would be able to hunt out.

He rolled into the warmth where Irvine's body had lay, closed his eyes briefly, then sat up, stretched, and climbed out of the furs. His mind flickered briefly to the man he had killed, but he felt no guilt or remorse. It was a _just_ punishment for trying to steal away what was rightfully his, and he had picked off one of the weakest members instead of taking their leader, as he well could have.

Zell smirked. Tall-and-Blond would likely think twice about trying to shoot him again.

It occurred to Zell after a little while of following that amusing train of thought that Irvine had been gone quite a while. He frowned a little, and got to his feet, stepping over Jirrah and heading out of the cave.

Whipcrack was there, preening Shir'nis' feathers, at which he arched a brow. Well, at least their chicks would be interesting…

He made his way silently through the trees and red-gold tinge of sunrise, attuned to the waking forest. Soon, he came upon the cowboy, and his golden brows drew together in confusion.

Irvine was crying.

He was on his knees in the water, and it lapped up around his hips, lifting the loincloth, then plastering it back against him. His hands curled over his face and tears ran between them. His sobs tore at Zell's heart.

"Irvine…" he said softly, coming out of the trees.

The cowboy looked up, eyes wide like a scared baby Iguion. He looked so vulnerable, so innocent. He _needed_ Zell to look after him. It was the way things should be, the native knew.

Irvine dipped his hands in the cold water, splashing it on his face to try and hide the tears, but Zell had seen it all. He strode forward and into the calf-deep water, going to his knees beside his taken and drawing him into his arms.

"No…" Irvine whispered. "/No! It… Everything's… bad. It's bad/"

Zell ignored the way Irvine fought to get free and held him until he stopped. His hands fisted against the native's chest and he panted, now fighting the recurring tears, but they ignored him too, clinging briefly to his eyelashes before spilling free to trail down his cheeks.

"Shh… /I know. I know…/"

And he did know. He remembered how torn apart he'd been, how confused and disgusted with himself, when he realised he reacted to men far more strongly than women. He stroked the cowboy's back and made wordless sounds of comfort until he had no tears left to cry. Irvine shivered, now, and it was partly from the chilled mountain water around their legs and hips.

Zell got him to his feet and took him back to the cave, drying him with one of the furs, which he hung out to dry before breathing the fire back to life.

Irvine sat in silence, hands lightly fisted against his thighs and eyes fixed on some point at the edge of the sleeping furs. Zell moved back to his side and brought the Snow-Lion pelt gently around his shoulders. He said nothing for a long while, watching the cowboy closely with a cocked head.

He didn't particularly like the look in the sky-coloured gaze, but Irvine was still _so beautiful._ He had seen it from the moment he first laid eyes on the cowboy so, so long ago. Ai… from that moment, Zell had wanted him, and he swore nothing would stand in his way.

"/Not _all_ bad…/" he said eventually, and Irvine flinched, blinking a few times as though waking from a deep sleep.

He looked at Zell, then away again, clutching at the Snow-Lion pelt.

The native looked sadly at him, then shifted closer and caught his chin gently with two fingertips, turning his face back to him. Irvine's eyes squeezed shut, elegant brows drawing low over the bridge of his long nose. Zell smoothed his thumb lightly across one crinkled cheek and it was enough to bring the cowboy's eyes open again.

"/Believe me. It's not all bad. I will show you… later. Breakfast first, and hunting./"

Irvine nodded silently, and Zell didn't ask him to cook for them. He prepared their breakfast, they ate, and headed out of the cave.

- - - - - - -

Irvine wondered _how_ Zell would go about showing him. He had some pretty good ideas,

and they made him flush with excitement as much as shame.

He didn't know what had brought on that sudden feeling. He could remember letting himself imagine with no guilt, but now… Maybe it was that he'd had to resort to so base and lonely an action as… touching himself, (1) that he had so little restraint. Maybe it was that he was finally coming to his senses. Maybe… He didn't know.

He _did_ know he couldn't let Zell touch him.

Shir'nis and Whipcrack were waiting for them when they came out and Irvine blinked in surprise when Whipcrack bent his legs and offered his wing, mimicking Shir'nis. Zell smiled in that cocky way of his, but waved away the birds.

"/Whipcrack learns his place/" Zell said, patting the gold bird heartily on the shoulder.

Irvine smiled a little, nodding, then they headed off into the trees, leaving Jirrah to keep guard over the cave.

Watching Zell was an interesting way to pass the time, especially once the cowboy realised he had left the cave unarmed. He discovered why when they came upon a flock (2) of Cockatrice. He was rather pleased with himself for having been silent enough that the bird-like creatures didn't hear him. The native was as well.

"Shh…" Zell whispered, crouching low with his fists bared.

Irvine blinked, tugging absently on the Cockatrice feather in his own hair. The ones by Zell's cheek shifted, clacking lightly together in a soft imitation of the way the creatures themselves sounded whenever they moved.

With a suddenness that made Irvine jump, the native sprang from cover, sending the Cockatrice squawking and flapping their useless wings. Feathers flew everywhere and the brainless birds went in all directions. It made it all the easier to pluck one from the flock. Zell was on one in seconds, his fists as fast and deadly a weapon as any shotgun Irvine might carry.

He stood over his kill, the last of the Cockatrice vanishing from sight and hearing. Blood flecked his hands, his wrists, and a single drop clung to end of a lock hair which had come free from the upward spike to fall over one sapphire eye. Irvine caught his breath, thinking that he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted Zell right then. The native lifted his chin, giving him an arrogant look, and held out a hand.

The cowboy found himself powerless to resist the silent summons.

_You are mine, and mine you will remain. Come to me._

He went, moving into Zell's body in such a way that the native's arm stroked along his side. That arm curved around his waist and Zell leaned forward a little, nuzzling into his hair and inhaling deeply. Irvine shivered and the native kissed his jaw, then licked at his neck. Another shiver ran through the cowboy's body and Zell's mouth opened against the soft skin, suckling softly before he sank those little fangs of his in and _really_ sucked. Irvine squirmed, whimpering.

It hurt, but only a little, and mostly, it felt good.

Zell's free hand went to Irvine's thigh and stroked upward under the loincloth to cup his arse, pulling his hips close. The cowboy knew there was no way he could hide his reaction, and the native's matched it, he could feel it.

"Zell…" he whispered, torn. "Zell."

"Shh…" the native purred against his throat. "/It's alright. I understand. We will go back, now./"

Irvine stood in silence while Zell pulled a knife from the bag at his hip and took what they needed from the Cockatrice, wrapping it all in several large leaves pulled down from a tree the cowboy didn't recognise.

"/Cockatrice bleed more than Grats, but they taste better too./" (3)

"/I've had Cockatrice before…/"

"/I know./"

Irvine didn't bother to ask how he knew, he just followed as Zell headed off, flicking blood free of his hands. There was blood on his own skin as well now, where Zell had touched him and he shivered as he watched muscle flex under lightly-tanned skin.

- - - - - - -

"Hyne's fucking balls on a stagecoach!" Seifer snarled and Squall's lips twitched slightly – that was the most inventive one yet.

This was the fifth trail they'd followed and found nothing but an end to it, Seifer growing steadily more irritated with each passing hour. They were both adept trackers, but apparently, the native was more adept at his laying of false trails – they couldn't tell the difference.

Knightly and Dot were stumbling with weariness at the merciless pace Seifer had set for them, never once letting them drop their heads to fossick for greens and bugs, or even for a mouthful of water. Even Squall was starting to fray at the edges, his own indomitable temper beginning to spark.

"Seifer."

The Sheriff wheeled his bird around and started heading back along the false track, face tight and jaw set. Squall followed, cursing when Dot made a soft noise of protest and tripped over her own feet, nearly sending them both to the ground. She kept upright, just barely, but her head hung low.

"Seifer."

Seifer's back went rigid and Knightly balked at a fallen branch he barely had to lift a foot to step over. He forced the bird forward with a click of his tongue and flick of the reigns, squeezing with his knees.

"_Sheriff_!" Squall snarled. "Stop! This is madness!"

"I'm not stopping."

"Until when? Until Dot falls and breaks her leg, or Knightly _really_ gets pissed off at you and throws you, breaking _your neck_? Or maybe until one of us rides into a low branch? Or maybe until-"

"I get it!" Seifer cut in, dragging poor Knightly to an abrupt halt. The bird didn't even protest the pull on his bit, happy just to have stopped.

They set up a ragged camp and bedded down as soon as they'd eaten, wanting to rise as early as possible the next morning.

- - - - - - -

They took their dinner back to the cave, then Zell made Irvine take off the loincloth and did the same himself, taking the cowboy's hand and leading him out and across to the little stream. He would have preferred if they were in the original cave, and the water warm. Water was an amazing help when it came to pleasure… But the sun was lowering and the water, when they put their feet in, was freezing.

Irvine shivered and pressed against his side, so he slid an arm around his cowboy's body, rubbing vigorously at goosepimpled skin. Irvine turned into him, though his breathing quickened with nervousness, and Zell could feel his heart pounding through his skin.

The native dearly wished to simply drive him down into the water, and take him, with tender touches and knowing licks and nips, but they would both be so busy shivering, neither would enjoy it as fully as possible. They would wash, he would awaken Irvine's desire for him, then lead him back to the cave, and fulfill it. For both of them. Ai, how he wanted his taken… His love.

It sang through his blood and whispered in his heart, danced low in his belly and lit fires between his legs. He had never felt so perfectly out of control and wanting of anyone. He knew why, even if his cowboy had forgotten. Oh, he did love Irvine.

Even though it was cold, and they both hissed and grumbled and shivered, Zell forced himself and Irvine to kneel in the water. The cowboy pressed insistently closer, shivering, and he certainly wasn't complaining. It was his duty to keep his taken comfortable, and he wrapped a gentle hand around Irvine's length, stroking slowly to try and keep the cowboy's mind off the cold. He flushed and buried his face in Zell's neck, but he didn't protest. Instead, he whimpered, and the native shivered at the sound.

"/You are so beautiful…/" he murmured and he felt Irvine smile shakily against his neck. He used his free hand to rinse the blood free of their skins, then he had to let go of Irvine to wash it out of his blond hair.

"Zell…" Irvine whispered, teeth chattering as he squinted through the near-darkness.

"/Go back. Put wood on the fire. Prepare yourself for me. I'll wash my hair and come to you./"

Irvine nodded silently, then disappeared back through the trees.

Zell groaned and ran his hand through his hair. He wanted his taken so desperately, he was actually worried he would have no restraint. He didn't want to hurt or scare Irvine, not now. Not ever. He dropped a hand to the bottom of the stream, supporting his weight as he lifted himself onto his knees, wrapping his other hand around his arousal. He did not doubt his ability to please Irvine in every way, even if he did this now. He was virile. Strong. Male. Dominant. And being with his cowboy would quickly arouse him again.

His strong body arched, hips flexing, and he imagined how it was going to feel to enter his cowboy, to take him, claim him… He groaned, and began to stroke himself, whispering Irvine's name to the burble of the stream. His hand could never match the heat his taken would possess, but it was enough for now. He let the forest hear his pleasure, moaning from the back of his throat, and it didn't take him long to bring himself to completion. (4)

He knelt there, panting for a long moment, then bent his head to the water, rinsing out the blood, and washing away the evidence of his pleasure. Now he could be leisurely. Now he could be restrained. Now he could treat Irvine the way he deserved to be treated…

Zell stood, water streaming off his body, and gave himself a shake, then stepped out of the stream.

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Oh, aren't I evil? I promise I won't make you wait sooo long for the next chapter. But the anticipation will keep you looking for the next one. ;)

Author's Notes Take Two: Eoko/Hicky was right… I forgot to copy and paste the footnotes in… Eheh. Here they are.

(1) Irvine: _What_! It's a natural thing!

Zell: You're the one having issues with it. Don't complain to me.

Irvine: I hate this fic-me.

Zell: I _love_ this fic-me.

Irvine: …You always get the better end of the deal. _I'm_ always the one who's the nancy virgin. Why _is_ that!

Zell: smirk …Do you _really_ want me to answer that…?

Irvine: Fuck. You.

Zell: smirks more and pounces on Irvine You asked for it.

(2) Because I couldn't think of a collective noun for these guys… Stupid Cockatrice…

(3) Cockatrice chicken Zell. Zell's eating himself.  
(It's 1:30 in the morning and Hicky is two meters away from me. I'm allowed to be stupid. She's visiting from _Canada_ for crying out loud…  
Hicky: with Aust accent Sai-fuh.  
Me: dies)  
– This part of the fic was written in July last year, when Hicky/Eoko came to visit. Just goes to show you how long I've been writing this thing…

(4) Zell: See? _I_ don't mind pleasuring myself…  
Irvine: I hate this fic-me…  
Zell: snickers


	10. Satisfied

Warnings: L-E-M-O-N! Thou art thoroughly warned!

Pairings: Duh.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, do play with 'em.

Author's Notes: Here it is, as promised. You should all bow down and worship Eoko, because if it wasn't for her, this fic would be a write-off. Literally. My sister re-formatted my computer, which was all well and good – it runs like a dream now, my little CowBob… Anyway! I moved everything I wanted kept to one folder, and zipped it, then sent it over to my sister's computer, so it was safe. My re-format finished, so my sis could take the disk and do hers, which she did… without moving my files back to my comp first, or burning them to DVD. This fic was among them. Bear in mind the current length of the entire fic is 140-odd pages. I would have had to re-write everything after the last chapter I uploaded, if it wasn't for the fact that Eoko asks for updates every _day_, and therefore gets the fic about every two pages. –grins– She had all my fanfiction! Yay!

Anyway! On with the ficcage!

**_Mine._** – _KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Ten – Satisfied._

When Irvine got back to the cave, the fire was barely more than hot coals, and it took him a little time to get it burning again. It was made more difficult by the longing ache between his legs, and the tingle beneath his skin. His eyes slid frequently to the entrance as he dried himself on a fur, then sat on the rest of them.

_Prepare yourself_, Zell had said, but he didn't know how. His heart hammered in his chest and he didn't know if he desperately wanted to flee, or desperately wanted to stay. Both thoughts conjured the same images, anyway, except that the former included a chase and a capture. Not that the idea didn't hold great appeal…

Irvine sighed throatily and curled up around his need, picturing Zell gaining, gaining, and finally catching him, bearing him down in the dark and taking him. Hard muscles and straining bodies, claiming, marking, owning.

Hyne, he needed Zell so badly, and he didn't care anymore how wrong it might be. He couldn't pretend he didn't want the native, not anymore.

"Zell…" he whispered.

"/I'm here./"

Irvine turned and sat up a little, supporting his weight with one hand. He couldn't even hope to resist tracing the lines of Zell's form with his eyes, catching the way firelight sparkled off droplets of water. The native gave a toss of his head to flick his wet bangs out of his eyes and the cowboy reached out unconsciously for him.

"/Please…/"

The smile Zell gave him was pure arrogance and dominance. He came to the cowboy, and neither of them cared that he was dripping wet. Irvine shifted to lay on his back, heart pounding with fear and excitement, and Zell settled over him like he belonged there. He _did_ belong there – Irvine knew it.

Zell's mouth came to his throat and he bared it to the native, loving the utter surrender it represented. It made him vulnerable, his life in Zell's hands, and he wanted that. Wanted it with a passion that frightened him in its intensity, adding an edge to the pleasure of the hot tongue against his skin and the way strong teeth nipped and teased. It all felt so right.

He arched when that hot mouth licked a path from his throat to a nipple and wrapped around it, suckling with a skill that made him moan. Zell growled his approval back, so Irvine made the sound again, hands fluttering, then resting against the native's spine.

"/Feel me…/" he demanded softly, but Irvine didn't know how he _couldn't_.

Zell was all there was, all there ever could be, surely, and he could feel nothing else. He was drowning in Zell, and happy to let it be that way. His nervousness and fear had fled – he knew he didn't have to be afraid of the native.

- - - - - - -

Zell felt the moment Irvine stopped being afraid and responded with a hunger to match his own. His cowboy's hands came to his spine and held him there, as though afraid he might leave if he wasn't held. There was no chance of that. He meant to savour this.

He licked and suckled at Irvine's nipple until he squirmed, then kissed a path across to the other and paid it the same attention. He came to the conclusion that he _liked_ them, and that Irvine was going to get them pierced when he took the cowboy back to the Camp. Yes. That would be perfect.

Not that anything could really make his taken anymore perfect than he already was.

A tiny sound broke from the back of Irvine's throat, barely making it past his lips, when Zell stroked a hand up the inside of his thigh. It was needy, wanting, and the cowboy spread his legs just a little, accepting.

Zell could hardly believe how much Irvine excited him. Just the taste of the cowboy's skin sent wriggles of pleasure down between his legs, and he needed again already. It would take every well-practiced scrap of restraint he possessed to make this last. Especially with the way Irvine squirmed and begged with his body. He was _made_ to be a taken.

_My taken…_

Yes. And he always would be. He always had been. A smile curved Zell's lips and he leaned up to lick and suckle at Irvine's neck, then sank his teeth in, pressing his body down to hold Irvine still when the cowboy thrashed. Long fingers tangled in his hair and his taken gave a gasping moan, arching his neck in a primitively submissive movement. Zell suckled harder.

When he was done, he lifted his weight slightly to observe his handiwork, and he gave a pleased growl, then leaned down to lick at a whimpering Irvine's ear.

"/Want me…/" he said, smoothing a hand down Irvine's side.

- - - - - - -

"/I do…/" Irvine replied shakily, lightning sparking under his skin.

And he really did. Hyne, he did. The throb at his neck was a pleasure all its own, a pleasure of being claimed, owned… _taken_. That was the word Zell used for him, and it was what he wanted. To be taken.

He was a little embarrassed at the way he was reacting to Zell, the spread of his legs, and the throaty, unrestrained moans that clawed free of him. He sounded like something a man would pay for, that walked the streets in scandalous shoes and even more scandalous dress. The kind of thing his mother would curl her lip at and call "whore".

"Zell…" he said as that thought flickered across his consciousness. "/I can't… we… N-no…/"

Zell sat up a little, ceasing the pleasurable lapping at his ear and cocked a brow at him, the feathers in his hair rattling softly.

"/Mine/" was all he said, and everything was in the word.

_You can't say no. You _won't _say no. I won't let you. We have come too far and you want me. You _want _me. You can't fight it. You can't fight _me_. You don't want to._

"/It's… wrong./"

Zell smiled, then, a gentle, understanding smile that brought unexpected tears to Irvine's eyes. The native kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his nose and then his lips fluttered close to the cowboy's.

"/I thought that. I believed that, once, but how can it be wrong? How, when it feels so good? So _right_/"

On the last word, he curled his hand around Irvine's arousal and stroked and twisted in one long, teasing motion. Despite his best intentions, his back arched and his lips parted for a low, throaty moan.

"/You see/" Zell whispered. "/It's so perfect. _You're_ so perfect…/"

Irvine turned his head aside and nuzzled the furs beneath his face, but Zell was right. He was _right_, Hyne damn him. And the way the native flattered him made him warm all over. He gave in to what he really wanted, snaking his arms around Zell's neck. The native's attentions returned to his throat, now, that warm, knowing tongue licking and teasing. On impulse, he lifted his knees and parted his legs further, cradling his new lover between them.

"/That's better/" he murmured against his taker's hair and would swear he could feel a smile against his throat. Then Zell rolled his hips and another moan broke free of Irvine's throat, his own hips lifting in response.

"/Better still/" the native said, and Irvine couldn't help but laugh at the cockiness in his voice.

He whimpered when Zell tugged free of his arms, then arched just a little and twisted against the furs when teeth, tongue and lips made a hot, wet path down the center of his body. He lingered at the cowboy's navel, lapping and dipping his tongue in, and Irvine barely registered the tiny little whine he made from the back of his throat.

A hand splayed across his hip and Zell went lower still, hovering, teasing.

"/Please…/ Zell…" he begged softly and he didn't imagine the throaty chuckle the native gave.

"/Alright/" he purred and ran his tongue slowly up the side of Irvine's arousal.

"Hyne…" came the breathless whisper and he lifted his hips into the touch, silently begging for more.

- - - - - - -

Zell was inclined to give it to him, but the little begging sounds he made in the very back of his throat were just glorious. He was so unbelievably sensual and responsive. Zell had always known he would be.

"Zell, please!" Irvine cried eventually, lapsing into his own language after at least five minutes of nuzzling and licking and teasing. "I can't… I'm goin' crazy!"

The native smiled and closed his eyes, taking the cowboy into his mouth and rolling his tongue against the tip. He gained a soft sigh which graduated into a moan, then a desperate cry of his name when he raked his teeth lightly along the length.

He felt his own need rising higher, stoked just by the sounds his cowboy was making. Ah, he was everything. He was so gorgeous, so long and slender and all smooth lines and long hair. Ai! His hair… Zell reached up and twisted his fingers in the trailing locks, listening to his taken's panting breathing.

Irvine's fingers came suddenly to his hair, holding him where he was and his hips bucked against Zell's hold, failing, of course, to break it. He writhed on the furs, whimpering and trembling, and the native was delighted when he released with a whispered "Oh, Zell…" and a clenching of his fingers in the golden hair.

Zell sat up, proud of himself, and tossed his damp hair out of his face, drinking the sight of Irvine in. His cheeks were pinked, his limbs loose and relaxed, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. The native determined to paint him like this one day, back in the safety of the camp, on the best piece of Blue Dragon hide he could trade for.

After a few moments of soft panting and slow shifting, sky-blue eyes slitted open to peer at him between red-gold lashes, and the sweetest smile curved that elegant mouth.

"/There's more/" Zell said softly, settling back over him and giving him a grin when his arms came languidly about the native's shoulders.

"Mmm…" Irvine murmured, licking at Zell's ear, a motion which made the native shiver.

- - - - - - -

His release had made him bolder and he wanted to know everything about Zell's body. He wanted to get reactions from the native like the native had got from him. Zell's hands, though, were already roaming, and he knew he had to do something before he started to lose his mind again.

"Zell…" he whispered.

His taker made a non-committal noise, now nuzzling at his nipples again, and he whined, then pushed against Zell's shoulders.

"Zell," he said more firmly, and this time the blonde head lifted and Zell looked at him.

"/Yes/"

"/My turn… Please… Can I touch/"

Zell cocked his head in a manner not unlike Whipcrack and arched his brow slightly before slowly shifting off and away and turning onto his back. Irvine closed his eyes and swallowed, then sat up and moved onto his side.

"/Make yourself comfortable/" Zell said lowly, eyes lidded and – Irvine was sure – darker than usual.

He swung his leg over the native's hips and settled there, straddling him, his hands splayed out across the broad chest. He could feel the steady thud-thud of Zell's heartbeat, and the heat of his need against a thigh. His taker's chest rose and fell to deep, controlled breaths that Irvine envied – his own breathing was close to a pant. Zell didn't push him, and for that he was glad. He spent a long few moments just watching that rhythmic up-down and stroking the tips of his fingers absently against tanned, taught skin.

But he knew how pleasure worked. He knew how to satisfy a woman, and surely some things would be the same. He bent, hair slipping over a shoulder, and licked a long path up the center of Zell's body to his throat from where he licked and kissed up to an ear. He paid the ear some close attention, suckling and nipping and licking, and it didn't take him long to realise the native _really_ liked that. A low moan sighed past his lips and one hand came to Irvine's hair, holding him there. He dipped his tongue inside the ear and the native actually _squirmed_.

- - - - - - -

That his ears were so sensitive, Zell had always known, but it surprised him that Irvine had discovered this so quickly. The press and swipe of his taken's tongue within his ear made him light-headed and needy and his hands came to Irvine's hips despite how much he'd told himself he had to lay still and let the cowboy take his time. He ran one hand over the curve of that altogether perfect arse and dipped to fingers to stroke at his entrance, making his hips buck and his mouth break away from the ear with a stifled yelp of surprised pleasure.

"Zell…" he whispered. Then; "/Stop… Stop that. It's my turn./"

Zell chuckled throatily but did as he was told, pressing one hand low against Irvine's spine and the other curling about the back of his neck as he licked down to nuzzle at a nipple. The native gave him a sigh in response to the nuzzle, then groaned when that slick, wet, hot tongue lapped at the nipple. He suddenly knew why women flocked so readily to Irvine. He was _unbelievably_ good with his tongue. Which gave him mental pictures he'd rather not have, so he focused his attention entirely upon enjoying himself to dispel them. Not that it was a chore.

Irvine licked across to the other nipple and grazed gently with his teeth before closing his lips around it to suckle and tease. Zell's lips parted in a low, throaty moan and he felt Irvine's fingers tighten in the fur beside his shoulder.

"/Ai, my cowboy… So good…/" Zell told him, and felt the caress intensify at the encouragement.

When a questing hand found and wrapped around his arousal, some of Zell's iron control failed him and he cried out, arching his back and lifting his hips into the touch. He barely registered the mouth leaving his nipple, but he did register it when that _stunning_ tongue came against the tip, rolling there before Irvine closed his lips around the head. His actions were a little stilted, testing and learning what Zell liked best, but it didn't take his cowboy long to figure out what Zell liked and he settled into a maddening rhythm of alternating between licking and sucking – and only the tip too! His hand still worked up and down the native's length until Zell found himself thrashing on the furs, totally lost to any semblance of control.

When he managed to slit his eyes open and look down his body to meet Irvine's eyes, he looked far too self-satisfied for Zell's liking. The taken was _not_ in charge here and the taker started to sit up with intent to pin him down and remind him of that. But the cowboy must have realised what he intended, because he gave a swipe of his tongue from base to tip that made Zell fall back on the furs and moan reflexively, grasping at the furs.

"/S-stop…/" he demanded – or tried to demand. It came out almost pleading.

"/No/" Irvine purred.

- - - - - - -

He was in his element. He knew what it was to drive someone mad with want, to keep them under his control. And keeping _this_ man under control was too delicious for words. Keeping that strength, that power, that utter and complete _arrogance_ pinned down by pleasure was altogether too enjoyable to be let go.

He ran a hand up to Zell's chest, fingertips running across a nipple and realised too late it was a mistake. The native's own fingers came around the wrist, his other hand to Irvine's shoulder and he pulled him bodily upward, forcing him to release the treat in his mouth or risk injuring it – which he had no wish to do. Once he was stretched out along his taker's body, it was no difficult task for Zell to simply roll them, hand still holding the wrist and pinning it above his head.

"/I win/" Zell said with a cocky toss of his head and Irvine couldn't help but chuckle softly, arching against the native's grip only because the knowledge that he couldn't break it thrilled him.

"/You always will/" he replied, and liked the grin that spread across his taker's lips at the compliment.

"/Yes. You realise my power/" he said in a satisfied voice, giving Irvine reason to chuckle again. He was so like some sort of arrogant animal, at ease with his strength and just _knowing_ he was better than everyone else.

"/I realise your power/" Irvine agreed, stroking the native's bicep with obvious admiration.

"/I like this very much./"

"/I know you do./"

"/You are becoming the perfect taken I knew you would be./"

Irvine smiled. It was unbelievably easy to stroke the man's ego, and he had to admit he loved doing it. The way Zell postured and preened was amusing at the same time as sexy, and it was who he was. Irvine loved it.

"/And you are the perfect taker/" was the instant reply, and he could see the pride and self-satisfaction in the sapphire eyes.

"/I know this./"

Irvine laughed, then, and Zell laughed with him, then bent to capture his lips for a deep, hungry kiss. The cowboy gladly opened his mouth to it and responded with equal hunger, tongue moving against Zell's in the pattern which had become familiar. Zell's hands were all over him, lighting tiny fires in their wake, and when one wrapped around his arousal, he spread his legs and bent his knees instinctively, lifting his hips in silent pleading for something he only half-knew.

Zell smirked at him, and for some reason a blush pinked his cheeks.

"/Eager/" the native purred and the blush deepened. "/There's nothing wrong with this, my taken. This eagerness is natural, good. It's no different than the eagerness to take a woman you know so well, no different than the eagerness she has for you to take her."

Irvine nodded and gave a shaky smile, not so certain about that, but willing to trust Zell. Nothing the native had done so far had been anything but good, and he had been promised there was better to come. He watched with both curiosity and trepidation as the native drew a fluted bottle closer to him and poured a little oil into the palm of his hand. The smell of wildflowers and cinnamon caressed his nose as Zell wrapped the palm around two fingers of his opposite hand and coated them thoroughly.

"/Need me/" the native demanded softly, echoing his previous demands to be felt and wanted.

Irvine opened his mouth to reply, but all that came from his parted lips was a soft cry as Zell slipped the oiled palm beneath him to lift his hips slightly and ran one slick finger across his entrance before dipping it carefully inside. The native's eyes were lidded, tender, and the finger made Irvine take snatched, hurried breaths. There was a mild sting, then a new, strange, glorious pleasure.

"Z-Zell…" he whispered.

"/I know/" came the answering whisper and Irvine couldn't halt the slow arch of his body and the gasping cry he gave as the finger worked deeper.

- - - - - - -

If there was anything more beautiful on the entire face of the planet, Zell didn't know what it was. Irvine unconsciously ran a hand from his navel to a nipple, hissing softly when the palm ran over it and the native moved his finger in perfect timing with the touch. The fingers went into his hair, then, and the other hand twisted in the furs. His cheeks were delightfully pinked, his lips red and kiss-swollen, his sky-blue eyes showing as mere slits through red-gold lashes and his hair spread around him in wanton disarray.

Zell breathed out slowly, feeling, wanting, needing, just as he'd asked Irvine to. His cowboy twitched and – Ai! – he spread his legs a little further and arched his hips into the touch, seeking more, a deeper touch. There was only one thing that could give him that, and he wasn't ready yet. The native added a second finger, working them gently, massaging, preparing.

Irvine nearly sobbed, every exhale a needy "ah" or "oh" or "hn", and he _squirmed_, turning his face aside and nuzzling at the furs beneath him.

"/Look at me/" Zell whispered, breath catching when Irvine opened his eyes and turned his head to look up at him. He was _so_ beautiful. _So_ perfect. His eyes were two blue pools of naked, unadulterated desire.

"/Do you feel me/" he asked, removing his fingers in such a way that the brush of them made Irvine twitch and moan.

"/Yes…/" he panted. "/Please…/"

"/Do you want me/" Zell persisted, guiding one leg carefully up over a shoulder and the other around his waist and pressing carefully against his taken's entrance.

"/So much… Yes…/" came the desperate whimper.

"/Do you need me/"

"/Yes, yes, _yes_! Please! Now/"

If Zell were not already determined to take this glorious man beneath him, that cry would have made him so and he entered Irvine carefully, slowly, so that his cowboy thrashed and begged, apparently feeling nothing of the pain Zell had expected him to respond to. Ai, ai, ai! He was _made_ to be a taken!

- - - - - - -

Irvine didn't understand why his taker went still when he was finally, finally within him, and he whimpered, a pleading sound from the back of his throat.

"/Your body… must… be given time to… adjust…/" Zell explained, breath hitching.

Some part of Irvine was gratified he could cause this loss of composure in his taker, but it was a minority as the rest of him was screaming that he make Zell _move_. He wound his arms around neck and shoulders, pulling the native down to press against him and instinctively lifted his hips, tensing so that he tightened around the blonde.

The uncontrolled groan that sounded in his ear at the movement made his belly flutter and other parts of him ache with need and he was _so_ relieved when the native began a steady, deep-reaching roll of his hips. The movement was elegant, sinuous, and caused their entire bodies to rub together with every one, so that Irvine thought he might just die of sensation. And he would be happy to do so. If he died in this moment, he would die happy.

Nothing he had ever felt with a woman could compare. The knowledge of being claimed was a pleasure all its own, removed from the shockwave that rolled through his body with every thrust, but adding to it, making it something new and sharp and glorious. He tried to explain to Zell, but could only sigh and gasp and moan. Nevertheless, the native seemed to know.

Being so utterly vulnerable was more delightful than he'd ever thought it could be, too. He was at Zell's mercy, with his legs one around Zell's waist and the other over his shoulder, pinned beneath him, filled by him. He knew without a doubt he would crave this feeling for the rest of his life.

- - - - - - -

Zell had never felt so _right_, so completely in tune with a taken. Their bodies fit together like they were made to be that way, and every sound Irvine made was like music to him. The way his cowboy moaned his name made him tingle and he found his control failing further. He panicked for a brief moment, terrified of hurting his taken, but then a soft plea came to his ears, no more than a breathless "please…", and he knew he need not hold back.

- - - - - - -

Zell's pace quickened strengthened, burning, burning, burning, and Irvine was perfectly willing to be consumed by him. The power and the dominance that sat upon his taker's shoulders like a cloak all the time wrapped around Irvine now, an he reveled in it, let it take him, guide him. He was powerless to resist the contribution the strong body begged of him and his hips lifted to meet Zell's thrusts, making both of them moan.

- - - - - - -

Irvine's body sang to him, responding and arching and letting him have everything he wanted. His taker didn't fight it, didn't flee, didn't deny either of them anything. He didn't only take the pleasure Zell's movement gave him, but gave it back in return, meeting his thrusts, tightening and flexing in all the right places at all the right times. Virgin to men or not, he seemed to know how to drive Zell wild.

- - - - - - -

When Zell's hand wrapped around his arousal and stroked in time with the rhythm of their bodies, Irvine wailed, and couldn't find it in himself to care what he sounded like. He tightened his legs around the native, hands clutching at hair and spine, digging, clinging on for dear life. He wallowed in the sensations, in the flex of muscle beneath his hands and the strength and power that filled him. Always, the two words came to mind, always they were barely adequate to describe everything Zell was.

- - - - - - -

That desperate, unrestrained cry broke the last threads of control Zell possessed and he strove harder, faster, stronger, burying himself, losing himself in the perfect, gorgeous man beneath him. And Irvine rode it (1) easily, taking it all and loving it all. There was no response of fear or pain, only steadily more pleading, frantic cries, and Zell knew they were both very close.

- - - - - - -

When his release came, Irvine would swear he almost blacked out. His back arched, head thrown back, and he felt Zell's mouth come against his exposed throat as his hips bucked and his body thrashed with the release. The natives hot tongue and lips roved against his skin there with a hurried, rapid movement and he was bare seconds behind his taken.

Another soft cry broke free of Irvine's throat as he felt the heat of his taker's release deep within him, then his leg slipped free of the broad shoulder and the native dropped his head by the cowboy's ear, his pants stirring auburn hair. Irvine was panting too and his skin twitched and sparked at the barest touch of furs, hair, fingertips, skin. His eyes flickered shut and he shifted his thigh against Zell's side, sending a delightful shiver under his skin.

Zell groaned and shifted, pushing himself laboriously upward. Irvine cried out and wrapped his leg and his arms tighter around his taker, not wanting him to go anywhere.

"/Needy/" Zell accused, but it was soft, affectionate. "/Just this./" He slid carefully free of Irvine, intensifying the tingle, and reached for a soft, damp woven cloth, with which he carefully washed away the evidence of their pleasure, then tossed aside, flopping onto his back.

Irvine turned his head to look at his new lover, eyes tracing the solid lines of his body. Touching him was like nothing the cowboy had ever known, and he couldn't resist smoothing a hand over chest, abdomen, and curving it over a thigh and down, knuckles brushing against warm, sated length. Zell made a low sound, and Irvine's own length stirred tiredly in response. But it was barely a reaction and he smiled and shimmied down to press against Zell's side.

"/I… it…/" he was lost for words and Zell gave a low chuckle.

- - - - - - -

"/So good… you can't… describe it, hmm/" he teased cockily, running a hand down Irvine's elegant spine and along the underside of his thigh to draw the leg up and across his hips. Once he was satisfied with its placement, he stroked it gently.

"/Mmm… I suppose… so/" Irvine agreed with a chuckle. Both of them were still a bit out of breath.

"/Always now, we will sleep together like this. Whether after pleasure or not, I won't allow you to sleep clothed with me./"

He expected some sort of protest at being so blatantly commanded, but a cat-like smile curved his taken's lips instead and he sighed, tracing the lines of all Zell's perfectly refined muscles. He understood the pause in favour of perusing his body. It was, after all, a particularly well-maintained and gorgeous body.

"/Yes. I like the sound of that./"

"/You don't argue with me. You have learned your place./"

Irvine chuckled and the sound of it vibrated against Zell's side. He liked it, so he wrapped his arm under and around Irvine's shoulders and drew him closer. His taken didn't protest, instead slinging one arm across his chest and tucking the other between them.

"/Why should I argue when I, like, want something the same/"

Zell considered that.

"/Then, does that mean you'll argue if it's something you don't want the same/"

"/Oh, yes/" came the sly reply, and Zell had a suspicion he was only half-joking. He grumbled, which made Irvine laugh and the cowboy kissed his shoulder to soothe him. He allowed himself to be placated, but only – yes, truly, because he didn't bow to the whims of his taken! – only because he was tired and looking forward to sleeping the night through with his Irvine held naked in his arms.

"/Sleep, now. Dream/" he whispered in the cowboy's ear and Irvine smiled gently.

"Mmm… /Kiss me first… please/"

Zell smiled tenderly and was only to glad to give into that particular whim, taking that mouth which was so rightfully his in a slow, lingering kiss. When he broke it, Irvine tucked his head down against Zell's chest and Zell tangled his fingers in a wave of hair, showing his claim.

Irvine's breathing soon evened out into that of sleep, and Jirrah, who had instinctively known to steer clear, wafted into the cave. Zell ordered him to their feet – he would no longer allow the Gayla to share the bed which was only his and Irvine's – and pulled the big Snow-Lion pelt over himself and his sleeping taken, kissing his temple fleetingly before he, too, closed his eyes and drifted off into a happy, sated sleep.

- - - - - - -

(1) …rode it like the cowboy he was. Sentence really didn't fit the mood I wanted but I've used that one _so_ many times in our RPs. giggles

Author's Notes: There you go! Sorry, no Squall or Seifer this chapter, but come on! It's already four pages longer than usual! Hope you liked it!


	11. Violated

Warnings: **Lemon – specifically, rimming. If you don't know what rimming is, it's not my fault if you read it. At any rate, -.-.-.- will mark the beginning and end of the rimming**, since I know some people (especially Val :grins:) don't like it. Irvine _really_ likes it… in RP and in my fics. Umm… there may be language – not sure – yaoi and all the other things you ought to expect from this fic by now, if you're still reading.

Pairings: …

Disclaimer: I own nothing but names and personalities of chocobos and gayla. Also any random natives that appear who are obviously not styled off characters from the game. It's pretty easy to pick those… Heh.

Author's Notes: I'm so slack with updating this fic. :cries: I'm so sorry. I don't have much of an excuse except that I keep forgetting. Also, I'm getting closer to the end of what I've written, and I'm not writing enough pages between updates to make up for the eight-or-so that get posted. So the gap between the end of each chapter and the end of what I've written is getting smaller.

Ah, yes! For those of you who would like to know/read, Eoko, Val and I now have a webpage for our RP's. This site doesnot allow URLs in fanfiction, but the link is on my profile.Please do go and have a look around. There is a lot of sex. ;)

Oh! In other news, I spent _three hours_ this morning trying to find a suitable picture for my Xanga. It is damn near impossible to find a _good_ and _sexy_ picture of one Irvine Kinneas or Irvine Kinneas with Zell (those are even _more_ impossible). Therefore, I am putting out a call for pictures of the cowboy either by himself or with Zell. Those sent to me will earn the right to a yaoi fanfiction, pairing and, if you so desire, plot of your choice! Send to and you will be loved forever! You will also get a healthy dose of smut.

/Native speak./

**_Edit: I have just realised that within the backslashes that mark native speak, any ? or ! that occurs before the final / is deleted by this site. I truly do urge you to take your yaoi-loving butt over to either mediaminer dot org, adultfanfiction dot net or gundam-wing-universe dot net, because this site is just iffy now. I only still put my stuff here because, sadly, it's still the one every knows the best. If you want the links to any of the above-mentioned sites (which I, again, highly reccomend, especially adultfanfiction) please see my profile. I mean, let's face it, punctuation can mean a big difference between "Fuck me!" meaning I-don't-believe-it and "Fuck me..." meaning let's-make-hot-sexy-love. Oh! I'm the KittyMeowMaxwell in all those other places, of course._**

_**Mine. **– KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Eleven – Violated._

Seifer was awake the moment the sun broke through the canopy to light the forest. He flicked a spider out of his hair and rubbed at his face, sighing in agitation. He knew he owed Squall an apology from the night before.

He prepared their breakfast and Squall stirred as the cooking smells tickled his nose. One storm cloud eye slit open to glare at him.

"The sun better damnwell be up…" he said warningly.

"It is. It woke me." There was a long silence in which Squall reached under his bedding, pulled out a rock, and chucked it into the trees. "Squall… Listen, I-"

"Forget it, Sheriff. I understand. Now, give me breakfast."

Seifer chuckled.

They were on their way in little time, the chocobos in high spirits after a night's rest and grazing. But there were still so many trails and no way of telling which was the real one. If they found no true path at the end of this day, they both knew they would have to return home empty handed, and with the death of one man on their consciences.

"You don't suppose he's already killed him, do you?" Squall wondered into the early-morning hush as they rode side-by-side along a chosen trail.

Seifer shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, then rested it on his thigh, fingers drumming there in thought.

"You said yourself this savage seems to consider Irvine his property, and not as a slave. Why kill him if he wanted to…" Seifer trailed off. "Why kill him? It wouldn't make sense. Besides, the way he _told_ me Irvine was his property sure didn't suggest any intent to kill him."

Squall shifted uneasily in his saddle, glancing around them and giving a tug on the reins when Dot craned her head and started to head after a brightly coloured butterfly.

"You know he won't go so easy next time."

"That was easy?" Seifer brandished his thumb, from which they'd removed the splint now, but which was still strapped for support.

"He could have killed you. He didn't. That was because there was no need. As far as he's concerned, he beat you. That means you're supposed to leave it alone. He catches you after his property again, he's got every right to kill you, and he will."

"Not this time. I won't underestimate him again. I thought I had the upper hand just because he was the one with the pistol at his skull. I didn't know he'd move that fast. I know now."

Squall shook his head and sighed. _Not that it matters_, he mused. _I don't think we'll ever find them…_

- - - - - - -

Zell stirred to find they had moved apart during the night and when he propped himself up on one elbow he saw that his cowboy was laid flat out on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms. A slight smile curved Irvine's lips. A smirk tugged at Zell's and he gently slipped the snow-lion pelt down and out of the way to reveal the gentle curve of his taken's spine, lifting deliciously into the more rounded curve of his arse and flowing into those long, elegant legs. His mind slipped back to how they'd wrapped around him, flexed with the movements of their sweat-slick bodies.

Irvine murmured in his sleep and tried to burrow into the furs beneath him, goosebumps rising on his velvet skin.

Ai, how elegant he was… How beautiful and perfect and – Zell grinned – _his_. Ah, yes. His. Now he knew Irvine wouldn't turn on him, and would likely do anything for him. The cowboy would hunger for him at all times. It was time to go back to the native's peoples, and claim his taken properly, Mark him.

But first, to take him again. Ahh, yes…

Zell's tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he reached out, smoothing his fingers through the waves of auburn silk hair, then running the hand down the cowboy's spine and stroking it over his arse.

Irvine shifted, hips reflexively lifting to the touch and Zell's fangs showed in a predatory grin. The cowboy already knew his touch. He didn't yet wake, fighting it even as his body longed for wakefulness in order to respond properly.

Zell dipped his fingers close to Irvine entrance, but didn't linger, running his hand down an inner-thigh and grinning delightedly when the cowboy parted his legs.

"/Wake up, Irvine…/" Zell purred, leaning over his taken to put his mouth close to his ear.

Irvine made a little mewling sound, face losing its relaxed, sleepy state and Zell smirked, lapping just below the cowboy's ear. Another sound escaped Irvine's lips and the native brought a finger to his mouth, wetting it thoroughly, then bringing it down to touch at his taken's entrance before dipping gently inside.

- - - - - - -

Irvine woke to Zell's mouth at his ear and he murmured wordless good mornings, then whimpered when the native's finger slipped within him. He woke completely at that and bit his lower lip, burying his face in his arms and giving another, more urgent whimper.

"/Sore/" Zell wondered softly, rubbing the curve of Irvine's arse with a thumb.

"Mmn…" he agreed, now chewing on his lower lip.

"/Alright/" Zell murmured and took his finger away.

Irvine smiled and looked up at Zell, who smiled back and kissed him gently, then gave a smirk of devilish intent and shifted downward.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"Zell…?" the cowboy wondered warily, but he received no answer. Instead, Zell's hands came to his arse, ever so gently parting the cheeks and Irvine's eyes widened. "/No, Zell, I ca-" His words cut off in a soft, surprised cry as warmth entered him, slick and oh so _good_. It left again and he could hear the smirk in his taker's voice when he spoke.

"/You like that/"

"/Yes… good. Please…/" And he lifted his hips just a touch, silent asking to go with the vocalization. He had no inhibitions left.

That warm, arrogant chuckle slid down the length of his spine and the pleasure returned, making him shiver. It took a long few heartbeats of sensation infusing his body before he realised it was Zell's tongue working so knowingly inside of him. Then, it didn't matter, because it just blurred into warmth and pleasure.

Irvine moaned from the back of his throat, squirming helplessly. He struggled a long moment, then finally drew his knees up beneath him, freeing his growing arousal from the pain of being trapped between the furs and his body. Zell rode the movement easily, one hand stretching out to support his weight at the level of Irvine's knees.

"Zell…" the cowboy whispered, and it came to his own ears as a needy, pleased thing. "Oh, Zell…"

He felt the flex of a powerful muscle against his flank, Zell's hand fisting in the furs by his knee, and knew with a fierce pride that he affected the native. The knowledge only lasted a split second before he moaned again, hips bucking in response to the plunge of Zell's tongue. Indeed, it demanded a response, and he was powerless to deny it. He gripped at the furs, nuzzling his own arms and again he moaned, long and low.

"/Please… Zell… I need…/" he whispered, then whimpered wordlessly, arching a little.

Oh! It felt so good. Granted, not so good as having _Zell_ inside of him - it was a close second. But he _did_ need. He needed the native's touch, his hand around his arousal to take the aching want and make it _more_.

"/What/" Zell paused only long enough to purr the word in a way that pooled in Irvine's belly before his tongue returned to its exquisite torture.

"/T-touch me! I c-can't… I need… want… p-please… _please_/"

"/No/" Zell said with a laugh and Irvine cried out desperately as the tongue dipped again, merciless, mercifully hot and slick and-

"Aaah! Zell!"

The cry was high, keening and his fingers worked and grasped at the fur. He whimpered and moaned, hoping to gain Zell's pity, but his taker gave him none, only more of the delicious sensation that _just wasn't enough_!

He could stand it no longer. One arm unfolded and he lifted his hips just a little more so he could reach down, fingers wrapping around his own arousal and beginning a steady rhythm. He expected a reprimand for taking things out of Zell's control, but gained a growl of approval instead, and realised it must have been what the native _wanted_ him to do.

A shudder coursed through him and he tensed, feeling the first wash of release breaking over him. Oh, he didn't want it to end… It was so good and warm and _sensual_…

"/Ah, yes…/" he whispered and heard an answering groan from the native. (1) "/Yes! Ah-ah-ah… Zell/" The last was a stretched out moan of his taker's name, riding the back of the release that crashed through him, leaving him trembling and whimpering.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"/Hmm… good. So pretty, my cowboy/" Zell purred as though he were even responsible for the way the cowboy had been _born_. He helped Irvine stretch out his legs and shift onto his side, and when the native settled beside him, drawing him close, Irvine frowned slightly. Languid and satiated as he was, he could still feel the press of an unheeded arousal at his stomach.

"/Zell… you…/" he murmured, but the native pressed two fingers to Irvine's lips.

"/I'm fine. You matter more. You're satisfied, then so am I./"

"/It's not fair/" Irvine replied, blinking owlishly. "/I want to help./"

In light of Zell's very recent act, how could he not? There was as much enjoyment to be had in giving pleasure as receiving it, he knew, and he had never let a partner go away unfulfilled. He wasn't about to start now.

He urged Zell to lay on his back, thrilled at the prospect of yet again holding the man under his own brand of power. He kissed a tender, worshipful path down twitching, powerful muscles, beginning at the hollow of the native's throat and working his way down the center of the broad chest. His tongue and lips meandered along the curve of a pectoral muscle, glancing briefly over a nipple in a way that only made Zell hiss needily at him. He smirked and continued downward, eventually following the general in-sweep of his taker's abdomen to his navel where he teased and played, knowing precisely what he was doing to the man beneath him.

- - - - - - -

So, his taken was already teasing him. Zell couldn't find it in him to disapprove, it was too good. He let his breathing hitch, let a low moan quaver from his throat when Irvine's hand stroked up the inside of his thigh. The cowboy deserved to know he was doing everything right, and nothing wrong.

…Aside from the persistent teasing!

Ai! Again and again his taken drifted lower, lips and teeth and tongue promising, promising… But he didn't deliver, returning to lick and suckle at his navel, fingers ghosting over arousal or nipple, thigh or abdomen.

"Irvine!" he demanded, a low growl that no taken had yet ignored.

The cowboy paused, two patches of brilliant sky looking up the length of his body, veiled by perfect copper-gold lashes and framed by waves of the same coloured silk. He took Zell's breath away, and fierce pride and possessiveness swamped him again, so that he almost forgot what he'd been meaning to say.

"/Yes/" Irvine prompted, smirking. Zell couldn't decide if it was unbelievably sexy or unbelievably annoying.

"/Enough. Enough teasing./"

He ducked his head, eyes falling shut and made a great production of stroking his tongue too _slowly_ across Zell's tip in a manner no trembling virgin taken should take. He was no longer a trembling virgin, this was true, but _one_ taste, and all his doubts were cast aside. Zell knew he had chosen well – Irvine was a sexual being, and the native had been sure he would open up soon enough when he realised what it could give him. Of course, he had been right, this was expected, but the speed with which his taken was learning, teaching himself, floored Zell.

So did that slow, elaborate lick. His eyes rolled back, his head turned aside and he groaned. Irvine chuckled and took the native into his mouth, attempting to match the deep, all-encompassing pleasure he'd been given the night before. When his automatic responses kicked in and he drew away, looking disappointed, Zell had to laugh lowly.

"/You will learn. Don't rush it. I-/" He cut off in favour of a long moan as Irvine returned to safer ground, taking the head between his lips and working his mouth around that while his hand curled around Zell's length and stroked a perfect rhythm in time with the movements of his mouth.

The native couldn't control a buck of his hips, but it didn't phase Irvine, and it wasn't long before he was thrashing on the furs, crying the talents of his taken to the heavens.

"/Ai! Ir_vine_! Don't… stop. Don't stop/" he begged, and the cowboy gave an appreciative hum, which only served to send him more wild.

- - - - - - -

He wouldn't _dare_. Zell's utter loss of control was intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or rancher's pipe weed could compare, and he was addicted to everything the native was. To being taken, to being tasted, to being claimed, to driving him to complete mindlessness with tongue and lips and teeth and fingers.

He was more beautiful than the most beautiful women Irvine had ever lifted the skirts of, in so many different ways. He satisfied something the cowboy hadn't known needed satisfying, but now that he knew, there was nothing else that would offer that satisfaction.

When the native gave in, when his body tensed and his hips bucked and his fingers clenched at the furs with a strength that could kill Irvine in a heartbeat, the cowboy took everything he had to offer. And he _liked_ the taste, lapped every bead away.

Zell drew him up by way of a hand in his hair and at his shoulder and kissed him in that all-consuming, tasting way. He submitted to it, melting under the assault and molding himself to the body he was getting more and more familiar with.

"/You taste like sex…/" came a low, sexy purr.

He did blush a little, but he smiled, licking his lips.

"/Oh, so did _you_…/" he purred back, the smile turning suggestive.

"/Ah! I think I'm losing the innocent cowboy I took from the woman/"

"/Is that a bad thing/"

"/Oh, I think _not_./" He smirked and Irvine liked the way he flashed his fangs.

"/It's good/" he ventured, pleased with himself and his taker.

"/_Very_ good. Tomorrow, we start for my home. It won't take long to get there./"

- - - - - - -

He felt Irvine tense in his arms, swallowing, and he ran a soothing hand down his back.

"/Is that a good idea/" the cowboy wondered.

Zell had wondered that himself, but would not let Irvine see him uncertain. But he _was_ certain he wanted to Mark his taken, and that could only be done with his people. So all uncertainty had to be ignored, and he would do it. He would do anything for the cowboy.

"/I won't let them hurt you. The HeartSeer will be persuaded and none will have the right to challenge my claim. You'll have my Mark./"

"/You think you can own me…/"

"/Yes./" The answer was calm, flat and would brook no argument. It was a certainty, and Zell already knew it. Irvine ought to as well.

"/You stole me…/"

Zell shrugged, unconcerned. Irvine _belonged_ to him, it wasn't stealing. It was taking what was rightfully his.

"/Now, you understand yourself. You understand me./"

Irvine was silent for a long while, then he spoke softly.

"/I… want… I want your mark…/"

"/I know/" Zell replied, drawing his cowboy closer. He nosed at the bite mark he'd already given Irvine, impermanent, but a mark nevertheless. He touched Irvine's hair, lifted the feather bound there and smiled gently.

"/You're confidant of yourself/" Irvine said dryly.

"/I am never wrong/" he said simply, matter-of-factly.

His taken just chuckled and shook his head a little, preoccupied with tracing the lines of his muscles with elegant fingertips. The native pressed a possessive kiss to his mouth, and purred his approval when then was no fight.

- - - - - - -

It was a few days travel from there and Zell taught Irvine ways of pleasure he hadn't even imagined before. His taker seemed to delight in making him exclaim in disbelief or surprise. Indeed, he wasn't complaining about it himself.

Never before had Irvine been treated the way Zell treated him. He could remember treating women in a way akin to it but still not the same and certainly he had experienced nothing like it before. He wasn't the native's equal, that was a given. He was expected to do what he was told when he was told without question, as servant to master. But he was no servant. It was almost as though he were made of glass, or as though he were a deity, so thoroughly did Zell take care of him and worship him. _I tell you to do these things, but only to make your life better._ This seemed to be the silent belief the native held, even if 'making his life better' referred to making _Zell's_ life better in order that he could better please Irvine.

And please him, Zell did, and often. None of his treatment was at all distasteful.

As they traveled, his taker taught him how to use a bow and arrow, and they soon realised the cowboy was a natural. His aim was rarely off, due mostly he surmised, to his pin-point accuracy with a shotgun. The bow that became an almost permanent fixture across Whipcrack's shoulders almost made up for his missing gun.

At roughly noon on the third day of traveling, Zell stopped them and indicated that Irvine should be silent and remain where he was. By now, it came naturally for the cowboy to just obey, so he lifted his leg, rested his ankle on Whipcrack's neck and his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand and watched Zell go. He left Shir'nis behind, but took Jirrah with him. Irvine still marveled at how silently and swiftly the native disappeared.

He was happily lost in a daydream when he suddenly found himself dragged unceremoniously from his chocobo's back and forced to his knees. His instinct was to throw his weight forward and try and break the hold, but a Belhelmel blade knife like Zell's pressed to his throat was all the encouragement he needed to stay still.

"/Well, what have we here…/" a soft voice wondered and a dark-skinned native came into his line of sight. He crouched before Irvine, hands hanging between his thighs as he balanced on his toes. He cocked his head and flashed a grin, three green feathers rattling in his hair.

"/Zell's new taken/" guessed a voice behind him, presumably belonging to whoever held the knife. The blade pressed closer when Irvine shifted a little. "/The one Kiros spoke of./"

The native in front of him nodded thoughtfully.

"/Not a bad sight to come across after a day's hunting…/" he mused. "/Not especially to my tastes, but pretty nevertheless./" And he reached forward, cupping Irvine's jaw to turn his face and inspect the elegant lines of his features. The cowboy endured barely a heartbeat before he pulled away, showing his teeth as he'd seen Zell do. He knew the gesture didn't carry any of the weight it did coming from his taker.

"/No manners, Ti. He pulls away like a trembling virgin/" commented the knife-wielder as the native Irvine figured must be Ti showed his teeth back, with all the weight the cowboy lacked.

"/A virgin would know his place. Ah, but it _is_ so typical of Zell to have gone easy on him. Training, I imagine, would not be his strong point./"

This time when Ti's hand came at him, the knife bit deeper, daring him to even try and move. He trembled, far more in anger than fear, as the hand slid up his thigh. _Mine_, Zell's voice said in his head, and everything in him clamoured that this man had _no right_ to touch him. _Mine. My taken. My cowboy. Mine._ He gritted his teeth and refused to react.

"/_You're_ going to train him _now_…/" laughed the other native.

"/I certainly didn't fail with _you_, now did I Nirrin/"

Nirrin chuckled and stepped closer behind Irvine, legs pressing against his back to hold him still as Ti moved forward, hand inching higher, under the loincloth.

_Mine!_

"/No…/" Irvine hissed, then louder; "/No/"

Shir'nis sensed his tone and she warked loudly, Whipcrack following her lead. Ti seemed astounded that Irvine knew a word in their language, and Nirrin flinched at the birds, drawing blood.

- - - - - - -

(1) From the moment of waking to… well… a while after it, the fic was hand-written, because I'd got impatient and wanted to write the waking-after-sex scene. I have a thing for waking up scenes… Anyway, in the handwritten version, habit took over and I'd written "the fighter" instead of "the native". I noticed it while I was still typing "he whispered", because I'm usually reading a few words ahead, and it made me chuckle. Then when I got to it… I typed "fighter" anyway. My excuse is that I'm tired and worn out from uni and re-enrolment… fucking re-enrolment…

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: …Is that a _cliffhanger_! Who put that there:smirk:


	12. Loved

Warnings: Mild lemon, Zell… collective nouns… Really, if you're still reading, I almost think this is becoming redundant… I just like the sound of my own voice. :wink:

Pairings: Yeah, nah…

Disclaimer: I won my stuff, Squaresoft owns theirs. Believe me, I'd know if you pinched any of my ideas from this one.

Author's Notes: On the spelling of the things the natives live in: I was reluctant to call them teepees anyway, because I already stipulated that these guys weren't specifically based on any sort of original inhabitants to any country. However, I couldn't think of a better word. I even went so far as making things up, but nothing felt right. I know it can also be spelt tipi, however, I didn't like either "teepee" or "tipi", and wanted to be somewhat unique anyway, even if only in a little way, therefore, it is "teepi", and I've already had the argument with Eoko, so don't go trying to tell me I've spelt it wrong. If _she_ can't convince me to change it back, then no one can, believe me. Heh.

Guess no one wanted to draw those pics, huh? No matter.

Sorry about the belatedness of this chappy. I was waiting on Adult Fanfiction, but their uploading still isn't enabled, and it was just getting ridiculous, so here you go! Enjoy!

This site is still messing with my punctuation. There's commas and question marks and exclaimation marks missing from native speak and a couple other places. Again, I urge you, go to MediaMiner dot org or Gundam-Wing-Fanfiction dot net. Or (when they get their butts in gear) AdultFanfiction dot net. Please. I feel inadequate if I make punctuation mistakes, and I want you to know that it isn't meeeeee! lol

_**Mine. **– KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Twelve – Loved ._

Zell burst through the trees, stopping still when his eyes fell upon the scene. Was _nothing_ safe anymore! He glanced past Ti to Nirrin and snarled, lips peeling back from his teeth with utter animosity and command.

"Nirrin," he growled, and the knife twitched. He lifted his head, looking down his nose at the taken holding _his_ taken and arching a brow, posturing.

"/Hold, Nirrin, he is not your taker/" Ti hissed and Zell gave a short laugh through his nose.

No, he wasn't. But he'd had his share of taken and Nirrin was one of them. Besides that, all three of them knew which was the stronger taker, and it wasn't Ti. The green feather in Nirrin's hair meant little in the face of Zell's presence.

"/Nirrin/" It was a snarl this time and the knife fell away, making Zell lift his chin higher and almost crow with triumph. There was no denying the humiliation of a Feathered taken obeying another taker over the one who'd done the Feathering.

Zell knew _Irvine_ would do nothing of the sort.

"Zell…" the cowboy said and Ti twitched, refusing to remove his hand out of sheer pride and arrogance.

"/Leave him, Ti, or I will _break your neck_/" Zell promised lowly.

Again, Ti's teeth showed, but only briefly, because Zell barely had to crouch a little in threat and the other native backed off. He dropped his hand and stood, his entire stance radiating animosity.

"/You haven't been to the HeartSeer yet. He's free game./"

"/He's _mine_, and you _will not_ touch him…/"

"He isn't Marked! I can Feather his hair myself, if I want to, and you can say _nothing_./"

The absolute nerve of him! He was _weaker_ than Zell, they both knew it! By rights, he should already have put his tail between his legs and slunk off. Hierarchy was _very_ simple to understand. Takers were above taken, and beyond that, everything depended on strength. The stronger, the higher. Those who would take either position in a coupling fit in purely on strength – only the Chief's position was separate from this ranking system, the next declared by the previous on his or her deathbed.

Well, if Ti would force proof of who was the better, then Zell wouldn't deny him his foolish wish to make a spectacle of himself in front of their two taken.

"/Try it/" Zell dared him, then continued. "/Were he of our people I would have Marked him long since. He _is_ mine and I'll have no hand laid upon him _but_ mine./"

"/Our people/" Ti scoffed, curling his lip. "/_You_ are the bane of _our people_…/" And with that, he left, Nirrin following at his heels like a whipped Gayla.

"Irvine…" Zell said softly when they were gone, hurrying over to him and gathering him close. He kissed away the drop of blood drawn from his taken's throat, then kissed his lips, holding his face. "/I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone would find you before I returned./"

"/_I'm_ sorry. I didn't… I didn't see them coming. I tried to get away, but the knife… I didn't want him to touch me. I'd never have let him/"

"/Shh, shh…/" Zell whispered, proud of his cowboy for the defiance he would show to any other than himself. "/I know. I know you wouldn't/"

Irvine smiled at him, and he was taken by surprise when the cowboy kissed him furiously. It didn't take but a heartbeat before he took control of the kiss, tongue plunging possessively into his taken's mouth. Irvine didn't fight it, but melted against him.

"/You _are_ mine/" Zell growled against his lips.

"/Yours/" he agreed in a whisper and Zell held him tighter for a brief moment before letting him go.

Nevertheless, he was worried. He didn't tell his cowboy, for that would be admitting to a weakness, and no taker showed any weakness to his taken. But he dare not leave Irvine alone.

He took his beautiful lover to his teepi, smiling thanks when the pretty Unchosen he'd charged to keep it clean, aired and dust-free bowed her way out. He saw Irvine's eyes follow her, a smirk hovering about his lips and knew he had lessons to give. Ai, the trouble his taken could get into! Especially, he thought, with the state of near-nakedness his people all went about in. The only difference between his own clothing and that of the woman was a thin band she wore that passed across her chest. Indeed, it wasn't so much for modesty (the natives had little, if any) as keeping them out of the way while she worked. Even as she left, she was removing it.

He left Irvine to consider his new home while he went outside to retrieve the furs and other bits and pieces from the chocobos. Already, Irvine's bird was drawing attention. Several chocobos of varying mottled hues had come to welcome Shir'nis back to their swift (1) and investigate the new arrival. He stuck out terribly among the patches of white, tan, brown, black and grey, his bright yellow feathers blindingly obvious.

Whispers caught Zell's sharp ears.

"/…supposed to remain hidden/"

"/…n't one of _our_ chocobos, it's…/"

"/…you think he really…/

"/…too much freedom./"

"/…nyone see that _other_ thing he brought back/"

There was laughter at this, spreading in an insidious wave through the gathering natives. Hands lifted to tittering lips, and more whispers flew.

"/…even _call_ that a taken…/"

"/...know where it's _been_/"

"/…could have anything…/"

"/…_diseased_…/"

"/…taint…/"

"/And so _ugly_/"

"/Mind your tongues/" Zell snarled, hands fisting at his sides. He glared in a manner that managed to cover the entire camp, then turned and stalked back into his teepi.

A clay pot suffered on the camp's behalf, swept off the table it stood on with a violent snap of his hand. Irvine jumped when it hit the floor and looked up at him, wide-eyed, as he threw the furs down and spread them out. A jerk of his head drew his taken onto the furs and he in turn was on his taken in a heartbeat, pressing against him, listening to him sigh in anticipation.

"/I'm going to get you in trouble…/" Irvine's voice said in his ear, fingertips tracing down his spine.

"/They'll get used to you/" Zell promised, stroking his taken's hair. /"They will accept you. I know it./"

"/Even if they don't, I have you…/"

Zell smiled affectionately, then his intentions grew more amorous and his hands began to wander. Irvine relaxed willingly under him, now well aware of the pleasure he would give, and give well. Then Zell remembered he had other things to do. He smirked when Irvine whimpered as he sat up.

"/There are things I must teach you, especially about Unchosen./"

"/Unchosen…/" Irvine echoed. He sounded a little confused, so enraptured had he been – of course – with his taker's pleasuring. No one could blame him when his smirk grew slightly.

He spent a little time bringing his taken back down, then began an explanation of his people.

"/Unchosen, such as the girl who was in here before, wear no tattooing until they come of age on the first day of summer of their eighteenth year. Until then, they can only experiment with other Unchosen and a Chosen must never touch one./"

"/Chosen/" Irvine asked. "/I understand Unchosen – not of age – but Chosen/"

"/I'm Chosen./" He indicated the tattoo banded around his right thigh, coiling points waving down towards his knee. "/This tells anyone who should care to look that I prefer men, and to take them. If the points go up the right leg, it is a preference to be taken by men. Left leg is women, downwards marks a taker, upwards, a taken. This way, no mistakes can be made. No taker can be mistaken in who he or she chooses to take. I have seen some – not in this camp – with tattoos on _both_ legs which strike both up and down the leg, but this, I think is too undecided… I am confidant in what I want and how I want it…/"

Irvine gave a rueful chuckle at that and a slight nod of understanding, then frowned slightly.

"/But what if you change your mind/"

"/It's not possible. The Unchosen have four seasons, from the coming of age day at the beginning of summer, when they are free to be with whomever they choose, Chosen or Unchosen. This is the time they must use to decide. They _cannot_ be Feathered or Marked. It's also the _only_ time a taker can be told to stop by a taken – or, rather, one who would choose to be a taken./"

He watched his cowboy digest this, loving the concentration that furrowed the otherwise smooth brow.

"/You mean… any one of them… any taker can take _me_, and I… I can't say no/"

Zell shifted a little.

"/Yes. They can take you, and you can't say no/" he affirmed.

"/But you… you're my taker./"

Zell grinned at that and tossed his head.

"/Yes, and _I_ am free to take you whenever and however I like also./"

Irvine snorted, and Zell was a little surprised when he moved, coming forward so that a knee when to either side of the native's thighs and he settled his hips against Zell's own. It was true, his taken was getting more relaxed and used to their pleasure, but this was the first time he had made advances.

"/What's this then/" the native wondered amusedly, hand already running up Irvine's thigh. "/Are you the very same shy cowboy I met only a little time ago/"

"/The very same, but you've taught him new things…/" Irvine replied, nuzzling at his taker's temple.

"/But I thought it was wrong…/" Zell teased, then hissed when the cowboy shifted his hips deliberately. A smirk curved Irvine's lips.

"/How can it be when it feels so good/"

"/Mmm… yes. Soon I'll Mark you, and there will be no more doubt to whom you belong./"

Irvine stilled and frowned at that.

"/What does it mean, really? To be Marked…/"

"/I'll choose a mark, and you will have it here/" Zell indicated the top of Irvine's right arm. "/And I'll have one to match it in the same place. Then all takers _will_ know you're mine and they will no longer be allowed to touch you. It will show my ownership./"

- - - - - - -

Irvine blinked, not so certain as he had been earlier. His feelings were mixed. He was touched and flattered by the evident _need_ for him the native showed, and the harsh, possessive tone that came to his voice at the very _idea_ of someone else touching him was primally satisfying.

But, despite his attraction and craving for the powerful man even now between his thighs, the fact of the matter was he wasn't _ready_ to be restricted to one person. Besides that, his parents expected him to marry a woman – probably Selphie – and give them grandkids and look after the ranch when Eli grew too old.

"/I can't…/" he said softly, despite the strange pain it caused him. He felt the excitement in both their bodies begin to cool. "/You can't do that…/"

Zell looked utterly shocked and his teeth showed with his next words.

"/_I_ am taker. It's my _right_./"

Irvine looked away, biting his lower lip, and gave a shake of his head.

"/What if I don't want to/"

Zell's eyes flashed and in one flex of his body, he had pinned Irvine to the furs. Excitement bucked in the cowboy's belly again, and he couldn't fight it.

"/You get no choice in this matter,"/ the native growled, jerking off Irvine's loincloth and wrapping it around his arousal to deliver several long strokes with the fuzzy material. Irvine's lips parted and he whimpered, unable to ignore the touch.

"/But… b-but…/"

"/You can't fight me/" Zell told him and he knew it was true, could only moan throatily when the material stilled and the native rubbed the pad of his thumb across the tip of his taken's arousal.

"/E-vil…/" Irvine panted, hips lifting to Zell's touch. "/Using my… body against me… I… ha-ate you…/"

Zell smiled and bent, putting his mouth close to Irvine's ear.

"/No matter…/" he whispered. "/I love you./" (2)

Irvine didn't know the word, but he somehow found its meaning instantly and he gasped, arching his back. He wasn't sure if it was a reaction to Zell's words or his touch.

"Zell…" he whimpered. "Nn… Zell…"

"/I love you/" the native repeated, then Irvine forgot everything but the moment in which he existed.

Zell knew all the right places to touch and Irvine was soon a quivering, writhing mass of moans and desperate pleas. He didn't care that anyone within ten feet of the teepi would hear him – didn't even remember that they _could_. Eventually, he could stand the teasing no longer.

"/_Zell_/" he cried. "/Please! Dear Hyne, please stop/"

"/Stop…/" Zell echoed slyly and ceased all movement of his hands and body and mouth. "/Yes…/"

"/_No_/" He sobbed the word and lifted his hips, whining.

"/Say you are _mine_, and always will be/" the native demanded, and everything inside of Irvine clamoured this _wasn't fair_. It wasn't fair to _bribe_ him like this, when all he wanted was more than a touch, more than fingers. He wanted _Zell_ inside of him, taking him, as his taker should, and pleasing them both in the process. But the native wouldn't move, wanted an answer, and no amount of pleading got Irvine the mercy it always had before.

Then, he realised he didn't care. Whether he was being bribed or not, his answer would be the same. It was what he wanted, and what he needed, and the right thing, even if everything about it threw his planned future into chaos. It didn't matter. Only this did, now, Zell. That was all.

"/Yours…/" he whispered huskily. "/I'm _yours_… always…/"

The native gave an approving growl and entered Irvine in one smooth thrust, wasting no more time on teasing. He gave them both what they wanted, deep and hard, and Irvine was glad of it. He moaned his pleasure at being so thoroughly claimed.

All thought of what used to be home, of log walls, feathered mattresses and duty fled his mind – he knew this was where he belonged. He belonged in this man's teepi, in his arms, in his furs, in his heart. And he belonged _to_ this man.

He clung to Zell, crying out loudly, then fading to a near whimper over and over. Then pleasure exploded through him and he arched clear of the furs, calling his lover's name in a desperate wail. Zell was seconds behind him, giving a satisfied moan in his ear that was an unbelievable stroke to the cowboy's ego.

For a while, there was nothing but a spin in his head, and Zell's breath hot against his ear. Hyne, he was so unbelievably sexy. Everything about him was gorgeous, made Irvine's skin tingle and his body respond. He loved that he could do this to the native, as well as the native doing this to him. After a time, he became aware their breathing was slowing and he stroked his hands languidly down his lover's back, a smile curving his lips.

"Zell…" he whispered softly.

"Ai, Irvine…" came the instant reply.

"/Thank you…/"

"/Oh, you are _most_ welcome…/" Zell murmured, lifting himself away and causing Irvine to shiver and make a soft noise of pleasure at the movement within him. The native couldn't help but grin.

"/Are you not tired…/" Zell wondered, the grin turning to a smirk.

"Nnn…" Irvine replied noncommittally, then; "/Do you really… love me/"

"/Oh, yes/" Zell said straight away, and the certainty in his voice took Irvine's breath away. "/I love you. I always have…/"

Irvine's smile was hesitant and he didn't know what to say. Women had told him they loved him before, and his flippant answer had always come easily – _well, darlin', I lurve you too, an' don't you forget it_ – but he didn't want to do that to Zell.

The native seemed to sense his confusion, his uncertainty and he just smiled and kissed Irvine gently, stroking his hair and pulling him against his body. The cowboy relaxed into him, draping an arm over his shoulders and slinging his leg over the native's hip.

"/Sleep/" Zell told him gently.

"/It's the middle of the day…/" the cowboy replied with a laugh, though he wasn't at all opposed to staying exactly where he was. He traced his fingers along the lines of the tattoo adorning the native's face. "/What does this one mean…? All the others mean something… This one/" He touched Zell's thigh. "/Means you take men. This one/" he reached over Zell's left shoulder to touch the tattoo spread across his shoulder blade. It was a curling snake and Zell had told him what it meant on their travels. "/…is your family's crest. So, what about this one/"

Zell chuckled in that way which always sent a shiver down his spine, and cocked his head, showing off the tattoo shamelessly. Irvine grinned at him, unable to help himself.

"/Oh, no. This is simply because it looks _perfect_…/"

Irvine laughed at that and Zell arched a brow, which only made Irvine laugh even harder. He licked the native's throat, still laughing around his own tongue, but the laugh developed into a yawn and the native stroked a hand along his hip, pressing him gently back against the furs.

"/Sleep/" Irvine hazarded around another yawn.

"/Yes. After all the traveling, we'll easily sleep until tomorrow morning, and no one will disturb us./"

Almost before Zell had finished, Irvine's eyes slid shut and he was asleep, curled against Zell's body. Where he belonged.

- - - - - - -

(1) Whee! Collective nouns.

(2) Ha! Zell said it _first_! Invariably, my characters say their I love you's before Hicky's do. Irvine definitely said it first (after Zell nearly got killed being stupid on the Ragnarok.) but now I got my own back!

Hicky: Hey! We wouldn't have "fly-boy" if Zell hadn't decided to play mechanical bull with a flying ship.

(Remember, these footnotes come from Eoko's version, since I lost mine in the format. :giggles: Hence her input here…)

Author's Notes: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!


	13. Examined

Warnings: Yaoi. Language. Zell. The usual. All the really great stuff. XD

Pairings: You would have to be brain-dead if you don't know by now.

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Ain't making any money.

Author's Notes: Yay! Kitty is now twenty-two! Kinda scary, really… As usual, thissiteis messing with the punctuation because it sees a fullstop/questionmark/exclaimation mark/_anything_ that comes before one of the backslashes that marks native-speak as superfluous punctuation. Believe me, I do know how to use punctuation. I'm a fourth-year student of _teaching_...

**_Mine_** – _KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Thirteen – Examined._

Zell woke the next morning to the poke of a toe at his shoulder and he bared his teeth at whomever dared to enter his dwelling place without his permission. He slitted open his eyes to glare when the presence didn't remove itself. The glare turned to a grin, however, when he saw the brave standing there, arms crossed and brow arched. His dark hair reached his shoulder-blades and his eyes were liquid brown. The tattoo around his thigh matched Zell's, as did the one across his shoulder blade, the sinuous snake. He grinned, teeth bright white.

"/So, you're back, and with a pretty prize no less, my brother/" the brave said with a laugh in his words as Zell sat up. He tucked the furs around a weakly protesting Irvine and stood up.

"/And you, also, are back I see, Ahshey./"

"/Yes! And with a pretty prize of my _own_/" came the delighted reply as they stepped out of the teepi, Zell tying on his loincloth on as they went.

"/To rival mine/" the blonde asked, doubting it and letting his tone show that. None could be so perfect as his taken.

Ahshey chuckled at him as he put an earthenware jug into dying coals and added kindling to bring the fire awake again. Zell reached back into the teepi and felt around to one side until he came out with a little pouch of tea leaves. Some of these, he dropped into the jug and they perched on a thick log to wait.

"/Well, of course, I think so but you'd rightly disagree," Ahshey replied, patting Zell's knee, then he leaned closer and Zell cocked a brow in question. "/I hear tell you plan on Marking this one. You! Surely I hear wrong/"

Zell made a thoughtful noise, thinking of his taken wrapped in furs and, of course, dreaming of his taker. He gave a slight shrug and a rueful grin.

"/You hear right. Today, I take him to the HeartSeer./"

"/If he Denies you/" Ahshey ventured, sniffing at the tea, then pouring them each a mug. He added milk from a certain plant and the crushed, dried powder of a sweet berry. He handed one to Zell, who shook his head.

"/He will _not_. And if he does, there's no reasoning against me for the HeartSeer to agree with him. He will be mine… He _is_ mine./"

"/Maybe you'll think differently when you see my new taken. Perhaps you'll wish to Feather his hair./"

Zell looked shrewdly at the other brave, arching a brow.

"/You visit another camp for six months, then bring back a taken with you and expect me to believe you don't plan on Marking him as yours? I knew you'd fall in love one day, despite your protests to the contrary./"

"/Ai, and I _have_, Zell, I have/" Ahshey sighed dreamily.

"/And you have left him unguarded/" The other brow lifted to join its twin.

Ahshey made a noise in the back of his throat and the smirk that crossed his features made Zell chuckle.

"/I've chased off five would-be takers already. No one dares try anymore, and today, as you, I'll Mark Krerah./"

"/Ah, this is a name made to be whispered to the night. Krerah. I like it./"

"/Yours, I hear, is not so. Maybe you should give him one of our names./"

Zell opened his mouth to refute that, but another voice cut over him.

"/His name is just fine./"

The native choked on his tea at the look in Ahshey's eyes and he turned his gaze back to look at Irvine, who was stretching in front of the teepi. He couldn't help but lick his lips, then he came back to himself.

"Irvine," he said firmly. "/Go back to sleep. It's early yet./"

"/I'm, like, used to being up before the sun./" He stepped delicately over the log and indicated the tea. "/Can I have one/"

"/You can share mine…/" Ahshey said with an air of unmistakable suggestiveness.

Zell glared briefly at Ahshey, then turned his attention to Irvine.

"/Sit/" he growled and parted his legs, tugging the fur from around his taken's shoulders and laying it on the ground. He was relieved when Irvine took the hint and sat between his knees, resting back against the log and Zell's stomach.

"/He needs some manners…/" Ahshey observed as Zell handed his tea to Irvine.

The blonde cringed, knowing it to be true. Irvine had contradicted another taker, ignored a directive from his own taker and certainly not made his request with anything even resembling humility, all in the space of about ten seconds. Mercifully, he remained _silent_ at Ahshey's comment.

Despite his words, however, Ahshey was clearly impressed. Zell smiled proudly and stroked his fingers through Irvine's hair as the cowboy drank. He tilted his head back into the caress and his eyes flickered shut as he put the tea aside, face slipping into the special look of ecstasy he only wore when Zell stroked his hair. Ahshey was clearly _more_ impressed.

"/I heard rumours/" the brave said softly, eyes tracing the lines of Irvine's body. "/he was less than pleasing to the eye, but they do lie, Zell. He's beautiful./"

"/These rumours are spread by the likes of Ti and Celia, one of whom can't keep his hands to himself, and the other of whom will say malicious things about me merely because she can never be taken by me./" A grin spread across Zell's features and he pressed his fingers deep through the auburn hair, making elegant lips part and a soft sigh pass them. "/But he _is_ beautiful, isn't he/"

- - - - - - -

"/I imagine legs this long have a great many uses, yes/"

The sly grin in Ahshey's voice was evident and Irvine didn't need to be looking to know it. He felt like a chocobo at auction – _good gait, but his crest looks a bit sickly. Make an _excellent_ breeding bird_… – but he knew, without Zell having to say so, that he'd already broken some unwritten rule and he didn't want to do so again. He remained silent, and listened.

"/A great many/" Zell affirmed. "/And he's remarkably good with his tongue./"

Irvine arched a brow, then made a low sound from the back of his throat when Zell's fingers shifted _just_ right against his skull.

"/Vocal/" Ahshey guessed, chuckling.

"/Exceedingly. And the sounds are greatly varied./"

The cowboy went slightly pink and Ahshey couldn't miss it, so close a study was he making.

"/He _blushes_/" the brave cried as though it were an amazing novelty. Then again, Irvine reflected, in a society so open as theirs seemed to be, it probably _was_…

"/Less and less frequently, actually. He's growing nicely used to my touch, and better and better at delivering his own./"

Irvine was pleased at the compliment and thought he should respond. Surely stroking Zell's already healthy ego couldn't be considered a breech of any rules. Certainly not the way all these people – the taker's anyway – postured and preened.

"/I have a good teacher and one whose own touch never fails to please./"

"/Yes/" Zell said instantly. "/_I_ _am_ a good lover./"

"/A very good lover/" Irvine agreed and Ahshey snorted.

"/You can keep him, taken. He isn't what I need./"

"/Is Krerah/" Zell wondered teasingly.

Ahshey smiled secretively, then nodded their attention in another direction.

"/Judge for yourself./"

Even Irvine could appreciate the appeal this native must have for takers. He was shorter than Irvine by a head, with dark, silken hair to his waist and unfathomable eyes of the darkest blue, framed by thick lashes. He moved with sinuous grace and possessed long limbs and a fine-boned, pretty face set off by the whipcord strength evident in the flex of muscle beneath chocolate skin.

Irvine felt Zell's thighs tense beside his arms. The fingers stilled in his hair and he didn't need to look to know the hunger in his taker's gaze. He grew instantly jealous and pressed back against the native's stomach to remind him of his presence. He was gratified when Zell let out a breath, relaxed and slid a hand over his shoulder and down to his chest, palm settling over a nipple and pulling him closer. The cowboy scowled at Krerah, but the friendly grin and wink the other taken gave made the gesture seem childish.

"/Ahshey…/" Krerah said with a practiced pout, breathing out the 'Ah' from the back of his throat. His voice was soft and lilting, made to stroke a taker's senses. "/You leave me to awaken alone in a strange teepi and a new camp so you can have tea…/"

"/Oh, no/" was the swift reply over Zell's soft laughter. "/Only to tell of your many virtues./"

"/Wouldn't that be easier if I were _here_, my taker/"

"/Mmm… you may be right," Ahshey purred and beckoned Krerah into his lap, where the taken gladly went.

"/You spoke truly – he's beautiful/" Zell acknowledged, and Irvine made an agreeable sound from the back of his throat. "/But still not so beautiful as _my_ taken./"

Irvine smiled, pleased, and bent to press a damp kiss to Zell's thigh, at which the native growled approvingly. A hand curled under his chin and tilted his head so that Zell could lean down and press a kiss to his mouth, tongue dipping between willingly parted lips. He melted under the kiss, and the reassurance that _he_ was Zell's taken, beauty in any other taken was not going to change that. Some tiny part of him that clung to what he had been was appalled at his _female_ behaviour, but it was barely a breath of an echo in the back of his mind. His skin tingled where Zell's fingertips stroked his chest and his body stirred readily to the native's touch, and it was all just too good to be ignored.

"Irvine," Zell admonished teasingly against his ear, only for him to hear. "/So eager already when we have only just woken? Are you this insatiable/"

"_/Me_? You can, like, talk/" he laughed back and Zell flashed his teeth in a grin then straightened, turning back to the other pair, who were similarly engaged. The native cocked his head and arched a brow, waiting patiently for roughly three seconds before he cleared his throat. Well, that was patient for Zell, Irvine thought with a smirk.

Ahshey broke the kiss with a rather glazed look and the cowboy wondered absently to himself how anything got done in the camp if Zell and his brother were indicative of the rest of the natives. They seemed likely to want to spend all their time in bed…

"/He's right/" Krerah's voice broke through Irvine's reverie and he realised he must have missed something. The other taken stood, briefly stroking a hand up Ahshey's front. "/There are things we have to do, and I don't think _your_ taken will be able to do them alone…/"

"/Be careful of your tone, taken…/" Zell warned.

"/Apologies, but it's still true. I'd be glad to help him./"

Ahshey remained silent, as did Irvine, but the cowboy's lack of response was largely due to the fact that he had completely lost track of what they were talking about. He _did_ know he had no wish to be separated from Zell, and he made those feelings known by sliding an arm around one thigh.

"/…Yes/" Zell said eventually. "/Yes, you speak truly, Krerah. He needs someone to help him./"

"/And I'll need someone to help me, so we'll share the burden/" Krerah said with a smile, and beckoned to Irvine with a twitch of his head.

Irvine hesitated, but Zell gave him a gentle push.

"/Go. Krerah is right. There are preparations to be made before the sun completely departs the horizon and I can't help you with them. Ahshey and I must make our own preparations and, likewise, you can't help me with them. My brother, despite his terrible ugliness-/" Ahshey shoved him and Krerah gave a snort. Irvine found himself unable to keep from grinning. "/-is a good judge of people, especially taken, and I've little doubt Krerah will treat you well. I _know_ you'll treat him well, yes, my taken/"

It was a warning, a command and not just a question. Irvine nodded and stood, not protesting when Zell pulled him down for a gentle kiss. Krerah merely smiled at Ahshey, then took Irvine's hand and firmly hooked his arm through his own.

"/We'll return to Ahshey's teepi. My things are there, and I don't think this one will have much… except perhaps gel…/" Krerah said.

Ahshey gave a bark of laughter while Zell made a face somewhere between amusement and a scowl. Irvine, for his part, chuckled as Krerah lead him off.

- - - - - - -

They had to give up. They could both feel it. Their food was running dangerously low, and they had been following false trails around in circles for two days. But neither of them was willing to breach the subject, not relishing the task of heading back empty-handed and with Bobby's death on their consciences.

They ate breakfast and packed up their little camp, loading the chocobos and preparing to move without saying a word to each other about anything, let alone Irvine. But when it became apparent they could no longer stall on a destination, Seifer finished the last mouthful of the bitter tea he'd been drinking and threw the tin cup viciously at the nearest tree. It hit hard enough to expose a sliver of green flesh.

"Hynedammit, Squall! We can't go back like this!"

"We have to," Squall replied reasonably, swinging into Dot's saddle. "We have to, Sheriff, because two dead lawmen out in the middle of the damn forest isn't going to help anyone, Irvine or otherwise. We've got to be getting on back."

Seifer's gloved hands fisted against Knightly's side and he growled. The bird ignored him, his years spent with Seifer having taught him the difference between temper and temper directed at _him_.

"It eats me, you know?" Seifer admitted after a long few moments. He climbed into the saddle and let it settle, then clicked at Knightly, and turned his beak for home. "He's just a _savage_… a… a damn _beast_. How could he get the better of us?"

"Well, I reckon thinking like that's the first part of it," Squall hazarded and didn't even flinch under the jade glare he received. His own glare was colder and more vicious than anything Sheriff Seifer Almasy could dish out.

"You think I underestimated him."

"No, I don't think that." Squall pulled Dot's head away from a broken-winged bird draped pathetically over a branch. He moved to pass by, but the bird let out a tiny sound and he sighed as though compassion hurt him. He drew his revolver, put the bird out of its misery, holstered the gun again, then returned to the conversation, kicking Dot up beside Knightly. "I _know_ that."

"Fuck you, Leonhart…" Seifer growled.

"Not right now. We're on chocobo back – it'd be real difficult."

Seifer couldn't help but give a short laugh, shaking his head and a knowing smirk just slightly tugged the corners of Squall's mouth at the reaction. The Sheriff was a good man, but his temper was dangerous and his Deputy considered it part of his duties to keep that temper from fraying.

"Anyway, how do you _know_ that?" Seifer asked.

"I know that because he dislocated your thumb, escaped us more than once, lead us 'round in circles for I don't even know how many days, and now… well, now he's beaten us. We're going home, and he's got Irvine and there's nothing we can do about it. We don't know where he is. He could be in any one of the camps spread out through this forest, and it's not like we can just wander up to every one and ask if they've seen a tall, red-headed cowboy…"

"You're talking an awful lot these days, Squall. You sure you're feeling okay…?" the Sheriff asked earnestly.

Squall hit him.

"It's all true. Just the facts."

Seifer grunted and moved Knightly into a trot, thinking of a hot bath and a good ale and avoiding the prospect of having to inform Eli and Leanne that their only son wouldn't be coming back.

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: I know, it's short again, but it would have been about a million pages long if I'd carried over into the next section. Well… maybe not a million, but a lot. Eheh.


	14. Prepared

Warnings: If you're still reading this, you don't _care_ anyway.

Pairings: …

Disclaimer: I only wish I owned them. I don't, and I don't make money off of this either. Only millions of chanting fans. ;)

Author's Notes: Man, it's been so long, I know! You would not believe how ridiculously busy I've been this semester, with uni and time in schools. I haven't had time to scratch myself, let alone write. And when I have had a little time, I've had no wish to be writing, because all I've been doing prior to that is writing essays! But now I'm holiday! Yay for me! So here is the next chapter for you!

_My love and kisses go out to Balis for her simply _adorable_ Irvine picture! I heart him to death, and if I had a colour printer, I would print him and put him on my wall. He's just gorgeous!_

Without further ado, here is the fic in which /something/ represents native speak and due to the / things, fanfiction dot net eats the punctuation at the end of native speak sentences. It is not that I don't know where a question mark goes…

_**Mine. **– KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Fourteen – Prepared._

"/Are you sure it's safe to go near… that… Krerah? Could have been anywhere…/"

Irvine flinched at the snide comment and felt Krerah tense beside him. The native smirked and turned to face the taunter, a hand coming up to push his hair away from his face.

"/You don't much value that pretty face of yours, do you, Nirrin/" he said softly, the hand dropping to rest upon a cocked hip. There was unmistakable warning in his voice and an air about him that certainly made Irvine wary of ever crossing him.

"/You're _defending_ it now…/" wondered someone else, female this time, and Irvine wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed the small group behind the other taken earlier. They were all taken, or what Zell had told him were called switch. Those who would take either position.

"/You're a _coward_/" Krerah growled, spitting the last word with a flash of white teeth. "/To bring so many and attack us like this./"

"/Oh, we've no plans for attacking _you_, Krerah. There's no need for you to be involved/" a tiny taken woman said with a giggle.

Krerah gave a derisive laugh and Irvine felt more than useless. He wished he had his bow and arrows.

"/He's my taker's brother's taken. As near to my _brother_ as my _bloodkin_. I wouldn't leave him alone to your cowardice… Now if you please, we have things to do and to prepare for./"

Krerah turned and lifted aside the teepi flap for Irvine, who turned as well and started inside. He barely had time to react when a foul-smelling Cockatrice egg whacked him fair in the middle of his naked back, sending him sprawling inside Krerah and Ahshey's teepi with a yelp. But the native did react. He was across the ground separating them and on Nirrin's fleeing back while the rest of the group scattered and Irvine picked himself up. He placed a foot in the small of Nirrin's back, the other on the ground and crouched over him, the heel of a hand between his shoulder blades keeping him down.

"/Was it worth it/" Krerah snarled, his other hand fisting in dark hair and pushing Nirrin's face viciously into grass and dirt. "/Was it worth the coward's act of hitting a man in the _back_ to see him fall? Will it still be worth it if I _kill_ you now/" He pulled, jerking Nirrin's head back.

"/I-/"

"/Would you have us all be the savages these people/" he nodded at Irvine. "/make us out to be? It's base behaviour, Nirrin. _Base_. Face him, face _me_, like a true brave, and then we shall see where you stand… if you can still stand./"

The native stood, leaning all his weight briefly on the foot at the small of Nirrin's back before stepping gracefully off and dusting himself down.

"/Zell _will_ pay dearly for his poor choice, and Ahshey will pay with him. Are you willing to pay as well/" Nirrin hissed as he stood. Krerah ignored him, his back to the other brave and continued to fastidiously dust off his hands as though he'd touched something particularly nasty. "/His taker can't be there all the time, and you know his blood will be spilled. Will you spill yours in his defense/"

"/You're making threats which go against the Old Law itself, taken. Once Zell Marks him, he's one of us. You'd spill the blood of one of your own people…/"

"/Oh, no. Zell is-/"

"/Speak your poison elsewhere, Nirrin/" Krerah snarled suddenly, glancing at the horizon. "/We've things to do./"

"/I'm going to get Zell killed…/" Irvine said softly as Krerah led him away to a nearby hot spring.

Krerah smiled as he took off his loincloth.

"/You think of your taker first. This proves you're more worthy of him than the likes of Nirrin. Believe me, you need not worry about him. They speak of him in every camp. There is no taker to match him. Irvine… a lot of them are jealous of you. Any taken would wish Zell's Mark./"

Irvine was silent for a long moment, then he hesitantly put a hand to Krerah's shoulder.

"/Thank you… for what you did. For putting yourself in that position for me./"

"/For you, I would gladly take _any_ postion…/" Krerah purred at him and Irvine laughed and rolled his eyes.

"/Is that _all_ you people ever think about/"

"/Yes./" The native winked, then grew serious. "/I would do it again. Ahshey loves your taker and I love Ahshey. More than that, I _like_ you, my brother./"

He turned his head to press a kiss to the hand at his shoulder and Irvine started, totally unable to respond. He had no idea how he _should_ respond, and he was amazed that Krerah had addressed him as "brother". In the end, he just smiled, and felt it a ridiculous gesture. But the native just grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"/Thank you/" Irvine blurted and Krerah laughed, making him blush and scowl at the same time.

"/Now, Irvine. We have cleansing to do, and not just because of a large, rotten Cockatrice egg, either./" He wrinkled his nose cutely. "/We must be clean to approach the HeartSeer. Do and say what I do and say, and all will be well./"

Irvine nodded and there was a long pause in which the native seemed to be waiting expectantly, then he finally gestured at Irvine's loincloth. The cowboy refrained from hitting himself, though he felt he deserved it, and he untied the scrap of clothing, dropping it to lay with Krerah's.

He followed when Krerah stepped elegantly into the water, up to the level of his thighs and mimicked his position, feet apart in line with his shoulders, hands resting on the surface of the water. They took a deep breath and swept their hands in easy, relaxed patterns across the water. He was only a heartbeat behind when Krerah dove smoothly under and they broke the surface in unison, auburn hair plastered to lightly tanned, pale skin, black hair plastered to chocolate skin. The native spoke, words Irvine didn't know, but he copied them, their ritualistic, chanting quality calming him and easing him into a state of not-sleep where he still felt restful.

"/It is done/" Krerah said softly with an infectious smile that Irvine couldn't help but return. "/Now, we can just enjoy the water./"

"/What did the words mean/" Irvine wondered softly, floating closer to the other taken.

Krerah made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, lifting a hand to brush Irvine's hair back behind his ear. The cowboy just smiled a little, relaxed and vaguely happy about absolutely everything at this point in time.

"/That has been lost. The words remain, but not their meaning. They prepare us for the HeartSeer, and the Marking./"

Irvine nodded, realising it didn't matter to him that he didn't know the exact meaning. Their symbolism was all that mattered, and he knew it must be the same for Krerah.

"/I think Zell has chosen well/" Krerah said suddenly after a few moment's companionable soaking in silence.

Irvine smiled and glanced at the native, embarrassed and proud all at once. His earlier, instinctive animosity towards the pretty taken was completely gone. It was obvious Krerah dearly loved Ahshey and, furthermore, that Zell dearly loved _him_, and that meant no amount of prettiness would make a difference. At any rate, he found he liked having Krerah's approval.

"/I'm glad/" he replied and gained a flash of white in return.

"/You don't even ask why/"

Irvine laughed, splashing Krerah playfully.

"/Why, then/"

"/You are stunning. Almost stunning enough to make me regret my decision to Choose an exclusively taken role. More than that, I don't think you're one to bow and scrape to him like a kicked lap-dog. I think you have fire, and he likes nothing better than a challenge. Don't listen to rumor and nasty comment. They _will_ get over it eventually. They always do./"

On impulse, Irvine hugged Krerah, and he was glad when he felt arms come around him in turn, the native's lilting voice laughing gently against his ear. A hand stroked up and down his back briefly and Krerah squeezed him companionably, then released him.

"/Now, now, my brother. We're to be cleansed for the HeartSeer. It _is_ unfair of you to tease me so when nothing can come of it./"

Irvine snorted and shook his head, chuckling. He was just glad that here was someone he would be able to talk to, aside from Zell. And someone willing to call him brother, to be his friend and support him. More than that, Krerah just _liked_ him, and that was nice to know.

"/We must go, Irvine./"

"/And do what/" Irvine wondered as they stepped out of the water.

"/You want to impress your taker, do you not/"

"/I think I have. Several times/" Irvine replied with a smirk and Krerah laughed.

"/I'm sure. Come./"

A grin curved Irvine's elegant mouth and he reached for his loincloth, but Krerah put a hand out to stop him.

"/What…/"

"/We're cleansed, now, and we must not jeopardize that. No loincloth is ever completely clean, no matter how often we wash it…/" he said with a slight smirk.

The native headed off through the trees and Irvine had no choice but to follow, naked or not. Suffice it to say, he stuck close to Krerah's back.

- - - - - - -

"/We could always put flowers in your fringe, since you can't gel it/" Ahshey suggested around a smirk, while he silvered the family crest on Zell's shoulder with powdered thrustaevis beak. (24) The blond didn't even dignify the 'suggestion' with an answer, only rolled his eyes, even though Ahshey couldn't see it.

"/Flowers are for taken…/" he said after a while, drumming his fingers against his thigh.

His brother laughed softly, then blew gently across Zell's family crest, displacing the excess silver and drying the light glue used to apply it. They had cleansed themselves as well, and now sat naked in Zell's teepi, preparing.

Zell found it difficult to sit still. He was ten times more nervous than Ahshey, and it showed. When his brother announced he was done, the blonde stood and paced the confined space, wishing Irvine was there, needing him.

"/Be still. Your hair is a mess. Sit, sit/"Ahshey demanded after several minutes of this.

Zell sat, but he fidgeted while Ahshey combed his hair.

"/Aren't you nervous/" he asked, fingers tapping an erratic beat against a taught thigh.

"/Not so nervous as you, evidently./" Ahshey replied, continuing the rhythmic motion of the comb even after the golden locks were neat. He hoped it would calm the other native.

But Zell didn't wish to be calmed.

"/What if he says no/"

"/You said yourself there is no way for the HeartSeer to accept that. What happened to the confident taker from this morning who's possession was clear? Are you so _weak_ that your taken will forget his need for you in so short a time? Is _he_ so _pathetic_ that he will give in to other taker's advances/"

"/Mind you tongue, Ahshey/" Zell snapped. "/_I_ am not weak and my taken is in no way _pathetic_. I can still lay you flat in seconds, and don't you forget it/"

"/Ai/" Ahshey exclaimed with a grin, giving Zell a slight shove. "/Here is my little brother's bite! I prefer it to his previous lack in confidence./"

Zell gave a slight smile, realising Ahshey's clever manipulation, and turned to hug him. His thoughts still lingered with Irvine, but he knew Ahshey was right. The HeartSeer would find no reason to deny his claim, and besides, _Irvine_ wouldn't deny it in the first place.

It _would_ be a _good_ day.

- - - - - - -

Irvine could hardly believe he was letting his hair be laced with flowers, dyed chocobo feathers and shining beads. Furthermore, he could hardly believe _he_ was lacing the same things in Krerah's hair – and he was doing it _well._ He enjoyed it, too. The rhythmic smoothness of the regular movements had a calming effect on him.

"/Is he a good lover/" Krerah wondered while Irvine worked. They had been taking turns so neither would have to do one thing for a long stretch of time.

The cowboy smiled.

"/Oh, yes…/" he replied, envisioning Zell's hands on his skin, the stroke of his tongue and flex of his hips.

"/You've had others/"

Irvine hesitated, then sighed.

"/Yes, but none male./"

"/Ah…/" Krerah said around a devious grin. "/Then you have no other to compare. How do you know he is so good/"

"/He tells me so/"

"/Ha/" Krerah laughed, swatting at Irvine. "/This is the answer you give to him, or Ahshey, not _I_/"

The cowboy considered, fingers darting easily in and out of Krerah's hair. How did he know? He just did. The way Zell made him feel – special, cared for – and the pleasure he gave had Irvine hating their time apart.

"/He touches all the right places…/" he said eventually, and after an encouraging sound from his companion, he went on; "/He makes… me cry out for need of him… then answers that need… I _crave_ his touch and I can't stop thinking of him, or wanting him. The moment we…/" He paused, embarrassed, but he knew how open these people were, so he continued. "/The moment he finishes loving me, I want him to again… and again./"

"/Ai…/" the native groaned, long and breathless. "/Yes, a good lover. I'm jealous./"

"/Is Ahshey _not_ a good lover/"

Krerah started to protest but the words died in his throat and replaced by others as a heavy bell began to sound.

"/The HeartSeer calls. Irvine, when the bell stops, we _must not_ say a word unless directly questioned by the HeartSeer. You can't speak, even to Zell. Do you understand/"

Irvine nodded as the last peal of the bell rang out and Krerah smiled encouragingly as they stepped outside. The cowboy's stomach gave a disconcerting lurch as he followed Krerah through the camp to a teepi set slightly apart from the rest. It was patterned all over with strange, curling symbols and leaping creatures and long, coloured strips of woven material hung from it all over, flapping in the breeze.

The entire camp seemed to have turned out for the Marking, little children laughing and darting in and out of adult's legs. They seemed to be dressed in their best finery, hair and skin adorned with all manner of decoration and paint, and Irvine noticed several jugs being passed among the adults, presumably with some sort of liquor inside.

He would _love_ some of that right now to boost his courage.

To one side of the tent sat four muscled braves, meditating quietly while a fifth, slenderer and more graceful, stirred a pot of black liquid which steamed above the roaring fire beneath it. Two children, a little girl and boy with ribbons bound through their hair kept the fire blazing.

A hush fell over the crowd when the teepi flap twitched, then they gave an almighty cheer when it was pushed aside and a woman stood there. She was naked and her skin was like chocolate, but her hair was almost white, it was so pale. Her eyes, too, were a clear, icy blue. They settled briefly on each of the men before her, and when it was Irvine's turn he felt as though she stripped him naked all over again, and more. She struck him as a very severe woman, straight brows, a hard mouth, muscled legs and arms. He noticed there was no tattoo around either thigh.

"/The Seer calls Ahshey of the Snake, Grendel Slayer, Heir to the Old Songs. The Seer calls in the name of the Old Law, which we all obey, and in the name of the Heart, who is in agreement./"

Ahshey took one step forward and offered his hand to Krerah, command evident in every line of his body, though he said nothing.

The smile Krerah gave made Irvine smile as well and, with a last pat to the cowboy's shoulder, Krerah went to his taker.

"/The Seer recognises Krerah of the Squirrel, Gatherer of Wild Berries, Keeper of the Silver Path. Ahshey of the Snake calls in the name of the Old Law, which we all obey, and in his own name. The HeartSeer is in agreement./"

She turned and the pair followed her, the patterned flap falling shut behind them.

Irvine swallowed and fidgeted, wishing they'd been first.

- - - - - - -

Author's Note: Oooo! What's going to happen!


	15. Chosen

Warnings: This fic is just one big warning, and if you're still reading it, you're not bothered by anything I write.

Disclaimer: I do not own Zell or Irvine or any of the FF8 characters, for that matter. However, Whipcrack, Jirrah, Ahshey, and my personal favourite, Krerah. -huggles him- Also any other random characters not from FF8 are belong to me!

Pairings: …Ahshey/Krerah? -snort-

Author's Notes: My Nanna's last scan came out non-malignant and the scan she had is 90 accurate. All jump for joy now! Although I never did put all that stuff that was going on in author's notes, I feel that the good news deserves to be broadcast. Nanna is just about the only one of my family these days who wants to read my writing – not, mind you, the writing you're reading right now. -grins- I think she would die of embarrassment if she read _this_. Anyway! It's great news! Now, on with the fic!

(Just a reminder. _This site_ eats punctuation that comes before the backslash that marks native-speak. If it seems like a question, but doesn't have a question mark, it probably is a question, and the question mark has been eaten...)

**_Mine_** – _KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Fifteen – Chosen._

Zell could see the nervousness and almost-fear in the lines of his taken's body and he wished he could go to him and assure him it would be alright. He must feel vulnerable, standing there alone in nothing but his own skin and the intricate work of his hair. He looked beautiful, the perfect taken, and the native dearly wished to go to him.

But the Old Law prevailed.

Ah! How perfect it would be to take his beautiful cowboy once the Marking was complete and he was truly Zell's! The very thought stirred him. Ahshey and Krerah seemed to take an age, but eventually they and the Seer reappeared, her hand atop their joined ones. The crowd cheered and the pair smiled, coming together for a tender kiss. Then, they left her and went to the men by the pot of black, but Zell paid no attention.

"/The Seer calls Zell of the Snake, SilentFoot, Malboro's Bane. The Seer calls in the name of the Old Law, which we all obey, and in the name of the Heart, who is in agreement./"

Zell stepped forward and offered his hand, watching with a slight smile as Irvine padded gracefully towards him and took his hand, swallowing visibly. He squeezed in silent encouragement.

"/The Seer…/" She paused, tossing her head. "/The Seer _does not_ recognise Irvine of the Outsiders, Land Stealer, Son of Murderers./"

Zell tensed and he heard the softest sound from Irvine's throat, but the Seer went on.

"/Zell of the Snake calls in the name of the Old Law, which we all obey, and in his own name. The Heart recogises Irvine of the Wild Bird, SkyEyes, Calmer of the Chocobo… The Heart is in agreement./"

His heart thudded as she turned away and they went after her.

- - - - - - -

Irvine grew impossibly more nervous at the Seer's declaration and he clung to Zell as they entered the large teepi. What did it mean? If she said Zell couldn't Mark him, would the native take him home and leave him there? The idea didn't hold remotely as much appeal as it had before he realised how good the man made him feel.

The woman lead them to a pile of furs and a pile of soft cushions, upon which someone already sat. He was as gentle and delicate as she was hard. His blue eyes and full mouth smiled at Irvine as they sat and his hair fell in soft waves about his face. He was naked as well, his chocolate skin a stark contrast to his pale hair. Just his presence relaxed the cowboy a little. He indicated that they should be seated, and they did so, Irvine refusing to release his death-grip on Zell's hand.

"/I will state from the outset I do not like this one bit/" the Seer said harshly as she sat beside the Heart. "/However, I am but one half of a greater whole, and the Heart believes otherwise. Think yourself lucky, Snake./"

Zell bowed his head politely, while Irvine entertained thoughts of hitting her.

"/Now, now, Sister. We both know this Snake has always been different/" the Heart said, his voice soft like a lullaby of rippling water of pebbles.

"/Different, yes. Strange. His choice is a rash one. A stupid one. I do not accept this./"

"/Yet, it does not fall only to you to decide./" He turned his attention fully to Irvine and Zell and the cowboy almost said something. "/We are two halves of the same whole. My sister is adamant about being logic, but love is not always logical./"

The Seer sneered at her brother, hands tight fists against her thighs. It was a shame, Irvine thought. If she relaxed, if she smiled, she would be more beautiful, even, than the Heart.

"/Love. This is not about love, it is about _lust_. About _ownership_. The Snake wishes to possess the Outsider as a demon possesses the unwary soul./"

Irvine felt Zell go rigid beside him, and knew the effort it was taking him not to argue with her. He knew it wasn't true – the native wanted him, yes, but not like that. The things he did were beautiful.

"/Sister/" The Heart's voice was angry for the first time. "/This Snake may be different, but he is not evil. You have not liked him from the outset, and this is why you are being even more difficult than your usual self. Zell/"

"/Yes/" was the short, polite reply.

"/Do you wish to hurt this one of the Wild Bird? To claim him, and take him as my sister says you do/"

Zell glanced at Irvine and gave a soft smile that made his heart flip-flop and his cheeks turn pink.

"/I can't lie to you. I wish to claim him, and take him, but not as the Seer describes it. I want him for my own, so I can be assured no taker will ever hurt him, or force him, or take him from me. So I can watch over him, and wake up with him every morning for the rest of our lives./"

"/You see? This is love, my sister. The Heart sees more than the Seer./"

"/You think so? What is to say this Outsider will not turn on us? They are a scar on the face of the land and he will become a scar on the face of our people./"

Irvine couldn't meet her gaze. His heart thudded in his chest and his eyes and cheeks burned. He shivered slightly.

"/Can you not see you terrify him? The thought of losing his taker hurts him. Is this not true, Irvine/" the Heart asked.

Another shiver ran under Irvine's skin.

"/Answer/" Zell said reassuringly.

"/He does not even follow the Old Law correct-/"

The Heart cut his sister off.

"/Silence! He is afraid. You are not helping./"

"/Yes…/" Irvine said suddenly. "/Yes, it hurts to… think of losing him./"

"/Even though he stole you from your home? Your family/"

He hesitated. That had bothered him to begin with, but it had left his mind. Zell made him happy. Happier than he'd ever been at home. He loved his family and his home, but Zell was becoming more important than all of that.

"/I was… upset… to start with, but… the way he touches me, and looks at me… the things he says… I've forgiven him for taking me from my home, because being his taken is… wonderful./"

"/This is enough for me. The Heart smiles upon the Marking of the Wild Bird by the Snake./"

"/The Heart is foolish. The Outsider does not even bear the sign of Choice. He must have this before he can bear the Snake's Mark./"

- - - - - - -

Zell flinched. He hadn't thought of that. It was true, no Unchosen could be Marked. Technically, Irvine was underage. Technically, he'd been breaking the Old Law every time he touched his cowboy. He cursed mentally and saw the Heart's smile waver.

"/You speak truly this time, my sister. But the problem is easy to remedy. He will be allowed the four season's time to experiment and make his Choice./"

The native's jaw twitched. No one, _no one_, touched his taken. In the four season's time, anyone was free to have him, and he free to have anyone. Zell could not allow that. He would not see another's hands on that ivory skin!

Ti would be the first, and Zell would have no ability to stop him.

"/I don't need time/" Irvine said, and Zell flinched again. Another rule broken.

"/_You_ do not speak unless spoken to/" the Seer snarled, and her hand flashed out, knuckles cracking across Irvine's cheek with enough force to send him to the floor of the teepi.

That, Zell would not stand. Even from her. He surged to his feet and snatched at her wrist, foot coming up to her shoulder and pushing. He let go of her and she fell hard, giving a grunt. He moved to Irvine, crouching over him protectively. He still said nothing, as was ritual, but he glared venomously at the Seer.

"/For shame, Sister/" the Heart cried. "/To strike a taken, thus/"

She struggled back into a sitting position and Zell crouched lower as Irvine, too, sat up, arms going around his waist and face pressing against his chest.

"/Unacceptable/" she growled. "/They have broken-/"

"/Yes, it _is_ unacceptable. I do not accept _your_ behaviour. You are not rational or subjective about this, and I will make the decision alone/" the Heart growled, and glared her to silence when she tried to speak again. "/Irvine…/" he said, and his voice was softer, gentle.

Zell wrapped an arm around Irvine's shoulders, pressing butterfly kisses to his hairline. His heart ached for his taken, and he wondered if he should have never returned, but gone with the cowboy somewhere safe and isolated.

"/Irvine of the Wild Bird… Come to me, please… I am sorry for my sister's behaviour."

Zell gave Irvine a slight nudge, and he shuddered, but turned and stood, going over to where the Heart sat. He reached up to take Irvine's wrist and guided him to kneel. Zell watched in silence, ready to defend his taken should he have to.

The Heart leaned close, fingers going into Irvine's hair and lips brushing kisses across his high cheekbones. Zell showed his teeth and started to stand, but the ice-blue eyes stopped him.

"/Peace, taker. I am no threat./"

Zell subsided and did feel peaceful.

- - - - - - -

Irvine relaxed under the Heart's gentle gaze and his own eyes slipped shut. The man cupped his face in both hands and smoothed his thumbs over his cheek bones, and the stinging went out of the one the Seer had struck.

"/The Heart smiles upon the Marking of the Wild Bird by the Snake. However…/"

Irvine opened his eyes as the Heart released him and saw he was looking at Zell.

"/Your taken says he needs no time to make his Choice, so he will make it now. But he cannot be Marked in the same day. You know why this is./"

"/Yes. I know. The sleep. When, then/"

"/In three day's time. Today, he will Choose. Tomorrow, and the next day you will rest with him and take care of him. The day following, you and he will receive the Marking./"

Zell bowed his head and Irvine blinked. Sleep? What sleep?

"/What is your choice, Irvine of the Wild Bird/"

"/I… I…/" he stammered, then cleared his throat and tried again. "/Taker… of women…/" He saw Zell twitch and couldn't help a little smile. "/Taken of men./"

"/Very well. Here. Drink this./"

Irvine took the little cup and glanced warily at Zell, but when he nodded, the cowboy downed the contents in one mouthful. It was vile and he coughed, making Zell laugh. An increadible weariness swiftly overcame him, and he felt Zell's arms around him before darkness took him.

- - - - - - -

The scent of Zell's teepi was the first thing Irvine became aware of, the soft, thick fur of the snow-lion pelt across his hips, stomach and chest. His thighs burned like a slow-creeping fire and he shifted a little, hissing lowly. He heard movement and opened one eye to see Zell laying aside wooden shafts he was carefully smoothing for arrows.

His eyes turned to his legs, and widened, and he couldn't help the masochistic urge that lead him to reach out and touch the black points that now flowed up his right leg and down his left. That made him hiss again. (1)

"/That's what you get for not keeping your hands to yourself/" Zell said and he looked up to the native, who came over to him and knelt, a clay bowl in his hands. "/This will help./" He dipped his fingers in the concoction and spread it gently across the red, slightly swollen skin. The burning receded and faded completely and Irvine absently lifted a hand to scratch between Jirrah's eye-stalks as the Gayla floated over to him, making soothing, cooing sounds.

"/What is it/" Irvine asked of Zell.

"/Ground snow-lion fang and fastitocalon scales. Made especially to take the heat out./"

Irvine wasn't exactly listening, too busy studying his new tattoos. He wasn't altogether sure what to think of them. It was very final – there was no removing them if he got tired of them later. It had slipped his mind that his Choice would be marked like this.

"/I like them/" Zell said, as though reading his mind.

- - - - - - -

And he did like them. They emphasised the length of his taken's legs – one of Irvine's best features. More than that, they brought him closer to Zell and his people, bringing him one step further along the road to belonging. The native ushered Jirrah away and moved closer, nosing at his cowboy's jawline. He ran his fingers through the auburn hair, dislodging flowers and ribbons, and gave his Gayla a warning look that sent him the rest of the way out of the teepi.

"/Hey! That took all morning/" Irvine complained teasingly, a grin curving his mouth.

"/And you looked beautiful…/" Zell murmured, opening his mouth against Irvine's skin and pressing wet kisses there. His taken sighed and lay back on the furs, letting his eyes flicker shut and Zell kissed his way down to the pale navel. Irvine gave a low cry as he dipped his tongue in, teasing and playing there.

"/Zell/"

The native looked up with a growl at the cry, glaring at the man who had given it as he threw aside the teepi flap and ducked inside. Ahshey grinned, pulling Krerah in behind him, and Zell wasn't surprised that Jirrah took the opportunity to re-enter as well.

"/If you were anyone else, I'd gut you like a fastitocalon…/" Zell muttered, sitting up with an apologetic stroke to Irvine's stomach. His taken gave a little whine and Zell patted his thigh with a soft laugh.

"/Come, my taken. Our brothers are here to show off their new tattoos, instead of rightly going back to Ahshey's teepi and worshipping one another properly./"

"/We've done that already/" Ahshey said. "/It's been hours since the Marking./"

"/Irvine only just woke/" Zell said.

- - - - - - -

"/That's the way with a sleeping draught/" Ahshey agreed as Krerah let go of his hand and went over to sit by Irvine who was just sitting up and tugging a fur over his naked – and more than a little aroused – body.

"/Sorry/" Krerah said with a grin that plainly said he was amused rather than sorry.

"/You will be/" Irvine grumbled. "/When I walk in on you just after Ahshey's laid you down./"

Krerah laughed and patted his thigh, then showed him the tattoo on his left bicep. It was a skylark.

"/Ahshey says he chose this Marking because I give him wings to fly/" Krerah said. "/I think he chose well. He helps me fly as well./"

Irvine was amazed by the detail and he smiled, studying the tattoo.

"/It's beautiful/" he said, then curled a hand around his own bicep, where his Mark would go. Ahshey's was on his right, and so too would Zell's be. Irvine wondered what it would be, but he doubted the native would be anymore inclined to show it to him than he had been previously.

"/So will yours be/" Krerah assured him, touching his hand where it was curled.

"/I know/" Irvine replied, smiling. "/I have these ones…/" He drew the fur up his thighs to show the bands around his legs, making both the visiting natives exclaim, Ahshey breaking off whatever conversation he'd been having with Zell.

"/They suit him beautifully. His legs are stunning/" Ahshey said approvingly.

Irvine had the same chocobo feeling of being assessed, and it amused him that Ahshey directed compliments on _him_ to Zell, as though the native were solely responsible. It certainly seemed to please him, for he smiled and thrust out his chest.

"/They're even more stunning wrapped around my waist when I take him/" he purred, eyes sliding to Irvine and a smirk touching his lips.

"/I should like to see that sometime, brother/" Ahshey said with a laugh.

"/And you shall/" Zell said, slapping Ahshey's thigh.

"/No he shall not/" Irvine protested, clutching at the fur as though Zell were about to pin him down right then. Although, he reflected, that wasn't so impossible a happening…

Krerah laughed.

"/You don't like an audience/" he wondered, while Ahshey fairly rolled around with mirth at Irvine's continued disobedience and Zell scowled at the other native.

"/I… can't, like… think of a time when I had one…/" Irvine replied, flushing.

"/Then how do you know you won't like it/"

"/Because… because sex is private/"

"/Actually…/" Krerah murmured. "/Sometimes it's better when it isn't…/"

Irvine looked away, turning the colour of a tomato.

"/I see some things can still make him blush. A lot/" Ahshey said, finally recovering enough wit to speak.

That made Irvine blush harder, embarrassed simply at the fact that he _was_ embarrassed, when nothing at all seemed to embarrass these men.

"/Oh, don't tease him/" Krerah said, stroking Irvine's hair.

"/You had better watch _your_ taken, Ahshey/" Zell remarked wryly. "/He rather likes mine./"

"/Ha/" Ahshey scoffed. "/He likes me inside of him more./"

Zell grinned his unique grin and stood, walking over to and putting his head out the teepi.

"/Who makes the meal tonight/" he wondered. "/I forgot lunch, and as you know, none of us ate breakfast./"

"/Not our taken/" Ahshey replied, and didn't really seem to care who it was.

"/Irvine…/" Zell said, coming back inside. "/Be wary of the woman at the fire closest us. She has swift hands./"

Ahshey looked out, then laughed.

"/We have all fallen victim to Koko's wandering hands/" he said, teeth flashing white in amusement.

"/Why she doesn't just find herself a taker is beyond me/" Zell muttered. "/There are enough willing men./"

"/She does. Haven't you seen the feathers? She has several. She just likes to keep her options open/" Krerah said with a grin.

Zell snorted, then hugged Ahshey tight, patting his back.

"/I'm glad for you, brother. Very glad./"

"/As I am for you… Or will be when you Mark him/"

"/That will be very soon. Three days' time/" Zell murmured.

Irvine smiled.

- - - - - - -

(1) I haven't had a tattoo, therefore I have no idea at what level the after-pain is. I am making this up! Woot!

Author's Notes: I hope everyone is still enjoying this fic. I'm sure still enjoying the writing of.


	16. Marked

Warnings: If you're still reading this… you already know.

Pairings: …

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot, and the various creatures herein (their personalities, that is). I make no money off this fic.

Author's Notes: My stupid computer has been at the fucking shop for ages, which is part of the reason I haven't updated. I am also lazy. But it _has_ been a long while and I apologise for that. I'll try to be faster.

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Sixteen – Marked._

It was a weary pair of lawmen that drove their birds on dragging feet the last hour back to town, desperate to get home, but at the same time dreading it. The chocobos managed a stumbling trot when they came within sight of the bleached wooden buildings, and they cooed happily when Seifer and Squall finally slid out of their saddles. The two men untacked and groomed their mounts, then set them loose in the little paddock behind the jail.

"I oughtta go tell his parents…" Seifer said reluctantly.

"Let's have a drink first," Squall suggested, but the blond shook his head.

"We do that and there'll be a thousand questions, and we'll have to tell every man and his dog what happened. You can bet your arse it won't stay quiet until I have a chance to go up to the Kinneas place. Better that they hear it from me."

Squall nodded silently, then asked; "You want me to come?"

"Naw… I'll do it. Don't worry about it. They would already have heard from Dylan that things didn't look good.

Again, Squall nodded, then on impulse, hugged Seifer tight.

"You did your best, Sheriff. No one can ask anymore of you."

Seifer instantly pushed him to arm's length, jaw clenching.

"You've got to be careful with things like that, Squall," he murmured, and when Squall didn't move, he couldn't resist leaning forward to nose at the deputy's hair.

"Seifer…" Squall warned, pulling gently away. There was an awkward silence, then he added; "You have to go speak to Eli and Leanne…"

Seifer looked hard at him for a long moment, then turned and left the jail without another word. He took one of their spare chocobos, ignoring Knightly's jealous warble.

"You're too tired," he said, patting Knightly's beak, then swinging up into the saddle and kicking the other bird into a run.

- - - - - - -

Eli was waiting for him on the veranda when he arrived, having seen the dust from a long distance away. He saw the look on Seifer's face and instantly beckoned him inside. The Sheriff took his hat off and held it in both hands before him as the rancher lead him through to the kitchen, where Leanne was just taking a fresh tray of cookies out of the oven. He glanced around. It looked like she'd been doing a lot in the kitchen. The shelves were lined with jars of jam and several batches of cookies were cooling on the benchtop.

"Leanne…" Eli said with a gentleness that surprised Seifer. "Sheriff's here."

She turned, looking drawn and pale, and came to her husband's waiting arms, eyes hopeful as she looked at Seifer.

"Tell us straight, Sheriff. You find out what that savage did with our boy?"

"Dylan told you, then?" he asked.

"Yep," Eli said shortly.

Seifer sighed, fiddling with the brim of his hat.

"We don't know anymore than that. Haven't seen hide nor hair of them. Savage laid about twenty false trails and we didn't have the supplies to follow each one. By the time we re-supply and get back up there, all the trails will be gone… I'm sorry… There's nothing more I or anyone else can do. Upwards of thirty savage encampments up in them mountains and the surrounding forest. We can't just waltz into every one of them. For starters, they don't stay still. It-"

"It's alright, Sheriff," Eli cut in, holding his sobbing wife against his chest. "You don't gotta explain to us. You been up there 'til you nearly starved to death, and one man already died on account of our boy. You done everythin' possible, an' more."

Seifer nodded, lowering his eyes, then said quietly; "If it makes you feel any better, neither the Deputy or I think he's been killed."

Eli nodded, then turned away, making soft, soothing noises to his wife. Seifer closed his eyes briefly before turning and quietly leaving.

- - - - - - -

Three days later, they stood again before the HeartSeer's teepi, this time without so much ceremony and so many crowds. They had cleansed themselves together, and come straight to the teepi before the camp had really begun to wake.

The four muscled braves sat meditating and the fifth was stirring his pot and he gave them a gentle smile before waving them inside. Zell held the flap aside to let Irvine in and the cowboy ducked inside, heart fluttering again. He waited for the native to follow, then grabbed his hand again and calmed slightly at the gentle squeeze he received.

The Seer was nowhere to be seen, but the Heart waited patiently for them, his blue eyes bright against his dark skin. They went and knelt before him and Irvine was struck again by his beauty.

"/All that remains is approval of your Mark, Snake/" he said in his lilting tones and held out his hand for the rolled-up skin Zell had guarded so jealously. Irvine tried to see over the edge of it as the Heart unrolled it and examined it. He heard his taker chuckle at him.

The Heart looked surprised and Irvine was further eaten with curiosity.

"/Why this/" he asked directly of Zell.

"/He's the god of strength and courage, of fierce loyalty. Irvine brings out these things in me. I'm stronger than I ever was before, I feel the courage to face anything, I could never be disloyal to him…/"

The Heart turned the skin to show the Mark.

"/And do you think this appropriate, Wild Bird/"

It looked like the ruby dragons he'd seen pictures of next to products that claimed to made of their skin, and cost more gil than Eli would make in three years' time. It had horns and bat-like wings, and a long tail. Somehow, the entire creature's silhouette had been fit into a circle that matched Ahshey and Krerah's for size, each line definite against the pale tan of the skin.

"/I… don't know what… that is… Is it a dragon…/" he asked, glancing at Zell.

"/The King of Dragons/" Zell replied. "/Bahamut, god of strength, courage, loyalty, as I have said./"

Irvine traced the black lines of the tattoo with his eyes. He put his hand to the place where it would go and after a long silence, he nodded.

"/I like it./"

"/As do I/" the Heart said with a smile. "/Very well then. The Heart smiles upon this Marking, and the Seer will abide by the Heart's decision in this Marking./"

"/Our thanks/" Zell said, and it was heartfelt. Irvine saw the tension drain out of the broad shoulders of his taker. He curled a hand over one of those shoulders and Zell smiled at him, touching his fingers. They stood together and Irvine found himself suddenly in Zell's arms, a warm mouth descending upon his for a deep kiss.

The Heart chuckled softly.

"/It is takers like yours, Wild Bird, who make me regret the choice I made when the last Heart left our world…."

Irvine looked at him as Zell released him, cocking his head a little.

"/You've… never…/"

"/Never. I am not even Chosen/" he murmured, indicating his naked thighs.

"/That's… I'm sorry/"

"/I am not. …Mostly./" The Heart grinned and waved his hands gently at them. "/Go. You have better things to do than sit here discussing the sex life of a Shaman. Leave me, now, and be Marked. I never want to hear of you arguing or hurting one another, for the Seer will be unbearable if that occurs./" He grinned and it was infectious. They both smiled back.

"/Thank you again/" Irvine murmured and, on impulse, bent, pressing a kiss to the Heart's lips.

The man smiled as Irvine stood, giving him a nod, and the two of them left the teepi.

"/You're so beautiful, my taken…/" Zell murmured as they went.

Irvine smiled knowingly and touched Zell's hip briefly, watching the shiver that ran up his spine at the tiny stroke. He growled softly and his eyes spoke fire to Irvine, making him shiver in his turn.

The four braves with the tattooist stood as they approached and Irvine followed Zell's lead when he bowed low to them.

"/Your Mark/" the slender brave murmured, holding out his hand. Zell handed over the scrap of skin and the tattooist nodded approval. "/Very striking/" he allowed. "/Who will go first/"

"/My taken/" Zell said instantly before Irvine could even open his mouth.

"/Very well. Lay down, taken./"

Irvine glanced at Zell, heart stuttering to a faster pace, but Zell smiled reassuringly and lay him on his back, his head pillowed in the native's lap. The four braves took hold of him, one to each thigh and one to each bicep and he swallowed.

"/You must stay still, taken. They'll help you with that. Concentrate on your taker, and the love you have for him. You bear with the pain of the Marking to demonstrate what you're willing to endure for him./"

Zell stroked his hair and he kept his eyes on the native, but the first prick of the needle seared through his arm anyway. He twitched. He became more and more glad of the braves holding him down when the pain became worse and worse. Pin prick upon pin prick peppered his skin, plunging deep and sure, to mark him forever. Zell's face hovered above him, murmuring soothing words, and it dawned on him that his taker's facial tattoo must have been excruciating, even had he been asleep while it was done. He whimpered the needle hit a particularly sensitive area and Zell bent to kiss his lips upside down. (1)

"/I'm here, Irvine… I've got you./"

- - - - - - -

It killed him to see his taken in such pain, but he was proud of the lack of tears and the restrained noises Irvine was making. He didn't thrash or fight the braves' hold, though it clearly hurt him. He returned Zell's kiss, sending sparks up the native's spine.

It seemed to take an age, and Zell knew it was worse for him to watch his cowboy endure the pain than it would be when it came to his turn for the Mark. After all, he had refused the sleep for his family crest and his Choice. (2)

"/It's done/" the tattooist said after a time, and pressed his fingers to Irvine's forehead. "/Peace, taken./"

Irvine sat up and craned his neck to see his Mark, a smile tugging at his lips. Good. He was happy, as he should be to have been Marked by such a taker as Zell. They exchanged places after the tattooist had put salve on Irvine's arm, and Zell lay with his head in Irvine's lap, grinning up at him.

His cowboy didn't even look mildly surprised when Zell barely flinched.

- - - - - - -

"/You can do no more than bake meat/" Krerah exclaimed at Irvine as they knelt beside a cooking fire in front of Ahshey's teepi some two or three days later. Their takers were hunting, and it was their turn to cook the night's meal, along with three other taken and one switch. The four women were giggling among themselves and making suggestive comments about Krerah and Irvine. All but the switch preferred men. Jirrah lay by Irvine's side, wafting away every so often to do whatever it was he did, but soon returning.

"/I never had to before. Ma did it all! I never even went patch-beast driving when Pa went with Mr. O'Leary/"

"/Then watch closely/" one of the women said, not even bothering to pretend she hadn't been listening. "/Your taker won't stand for a gap in your knowledge like that./"

"/Well, I wasn't brought up to be a taken…/" Irvine muttered and they all giggled. Even Krerah chuckled.

"/You'll learn soon enough, Irvine/" Krerah assured him, patting his shoulder.

"/How do you put up with it anyway/" Irvine muttered. "/Being told what to do all the time/"

"/We're taken/" one of the women said. "/It's always been this way./"

"/And our takers are good to us, and treat us with the adoration due to us for our passive and ultimately pleasure-giving ways. Though they're called takers, they don't only take. You must know this, Wild Bird/" one of the others said.

"/But any taker is free to have any taken, whether the taken protests or not. I've heard it…/" Irvine indicated a teepi across the way and the other four all showed their teeth in clear disgust.

"/Oora. Yes. He takes whom he pleases and hurts them, usually. But he'll never be able to Mark, and all taken he Feathers go straight to the HeartSeer and have it undone. More, the other takers despise him, and no one will be surprised if he mysteriously disappears when hunting or the like./" The others nodded in agreement with the switch.

"/Takers learn things, as we do. You believe your taker was just born with the knowledge of how to take a lover without hurting him? Where to touch you and kiss you, so you relax and allow him entry? Even how to help you learn to please him? No. He learned from other takers, during his four seasons before the Choice. More, they do all the hunting and fighting, while we're pampered/" one of the women said.

"/It's not so hard to cook every so often/" Krerah put in. "/And you'll learn how./"

"/Anyway… takers think they have all the power, but they're easily manipulated/" the littlest of the women said, and they all giggled, even Krerah made a sound suspiciously like one, but that could have been because Jirrah was pressed to his thighs.

"/Siiara's right. Arch your back _just_ right…/" The woman did so, the strip of material holding her breasts out of the way while she worked straining dangerously.

"/Whisper his name… Oh, Ferai…/" Siiara said, half-closing her eyes.

"/Lift your hips/" Krerah added, dropping his weight forward on his hands and arching his body so that his hips lifted, dislodging Jirrah in the process.

"/Moan/" they all cried, and threw their heads back so their dark hair cascaded down their backs, giving a collective "/_Ah_/"

Irvine swallowed reflexively and shifted a bit.

"/See/" Krerah said, poking Irvine's taker tattoo. "/Just a few little things and any taker is in his or her taken's hands! Ask the right way, and you'll receive./"

"/We have more power than they'd like to believe/" Siiara whispered.

"/But don't tell them we know that/" Krerah added, chuckling. "/Now, we have work to do./"

A half hour or so later, a group of taken and switch came to see what they were doing, flirting shamelessly with the group around the fire. Irvine asked Krerah softly about it, and the native just chuckled and shrugged – they all knew it was going nowhere.

"/What's this then/" one of the female taken asked, hanging over Irvine's shoulder and poking the shapeless mass that was his attempt at a wheat cake. He flushed.

"/I'm not very good at it/" he said softly.

She snickered and stood up, pressing a foot between his shoulder blades and pushing hard so that his face almost ended up in the 'cake'.

"/Evidently/" she said, ignoring the growl that gurgled in Jirrah's throat.

"/Remove your foot, Vian/" Krerah growled, standing.

That growl, she didn't ignore. She backed off a step, but showed her teeth at him.

"/You can't protect him for the rest of his life, Krerah. Is he so weak that he cannot fend for himself/" she wondered silkily, tossing her head.

"/Leave him/" Krerah demanded, crouching slightly and lifting his hands just a little. She curled her lip, but turned her back and strutted off with the rest of her group.

Irvine's new friends all fell silent, to the point that it became oppressive. Finally, Siiara spoke.

"/She's right, Krerah…/"

"/I know/" he replied.

"/Then do something about it./"

"/What do you propose I do/"

"/Don't snap at me. I'm only trying to help./"

"/I'm right here, you know. And I understand you. I'd prefer if you didn't discuss me as though I can't even hear/" Irvine said lowly.

"/You speak above your place, taken/" Krerah growled. "/If we should wish to discuss you as though you can't even hear, then we may. You have not yet proven yourself above or even equal to us and therefore, you may sit there and listen to us discuss you, or leave./"

Irvine blinked at him, then turned his attention to Jirrah, blushing hotly more from anger than from anything else. The creature pressed its head up under his hand.

"/Do you see/" Krerah asked him more gently. "/This is what Siiara speaks of. You must not let the likes of Vian treat you that way. You must stand up to them. And it will come to blows, as it must. But you only need best a strong taken or switch and you are then put above all those already below that taken or switch. You can't be polite, Irvine. You have to fight for your honour, or you'll have none./"

Irvine nodded mutely, still stroking and watching the Gayla.

"/The next taken who speaks badly to you, don't back down to/" Siiara said.

Again, Irvine nodded, and hoped it would be a long while before the next taken spoke badly to him.

- - - - - - -

Irvine had discovered there was something he hated almost as much as looking after cows. Digging up the tubers from under a spiked plant the natives simply called "ouch". It was an apt name, the cowboy had discovered, since it was almost impossible to dig them up without the sharp leaves stabbing at his hands. Thankfully, the job was only done once a month.

He'd decided the best way to deal with it was to suck on the paper-thin cuts on one hand while he dug with the other, then switch over every so often. He wasn't the only one working that way.

As the sun began to set, a pair of feet appeared beside him and he glanced up to find Nirrin looking down at him.

"/Thank you for all of your hard work today/" he said slyly. "/Ti will much appreciate it./" And he bent, picking up Irvine's basket of tubers.

Irvine looked at Krerah, but the native just gave a slight shrug and stood, hoisting his own basket up under his arm and turning towards the camp. Nirrin sneered at Irvine, planted his foot against the cowboy's shoulder and pushed hard enough to topple him. Then he crouched over him, fisting a hand in his auburn hair.

"/This is where you belong, taken. As low as you can get…/" And he pushed Irvine's face into the dirt.

The cowboy snapped. He didn't care how strong Nirrin was, his parents had always told him he was _something_. He wouldn't let them down by allowing the native to treat him as though he were nothing.

He gathered himself, finding purchase against two tufts of grass with his toes. He planted his hands and pushed upward, sending Nirrin tumbling off his back and springing to his feet.

"/This is where I belong/" Irvine snarled, and threw himself on the other native.

Krerah put his basket down and moved closer, as did the rest of the taken and switch out harvesting that day. Irvine felt them watching him, but all he could think about was how angry he was at Nirrin.

The native struggled beneath him, and threw him off and they both stood, circling. Nirrin crouched low and showed his teeth, but Irvine didn't back down. He showed his own teeth and made the first aggressive move, rushing at Nirrin and kicking out at his legs.

The native just danced back and used Irvine's low stance to tackle him to the ground. He wrapped his hands around the cowboy's wrists and pinned them down.

"/Yield./"

"/Not a chance/" Irvine snarled and arched his back then rolled over, sitting up and letting fly with a well-practiced, saloon-brawl right hook. It connected solidly with Nirrin's left eye and he cursed hotly, thrashing beneath the cowboy.

Irvine tangled his legs with the native, pinning them there, and put his hand against Nirrin's throat, holding his wrists above his head.

"/You yield./"

The native spat in his eye and Irvine showed his teeth and snarled. Nirrin fought him, but couldn't get free, and in the end, he went limp beneath Irvine.

"/I yield…/" Nirrin muttered.

Krerah grinned and stepped forward, helping Irvine up by way of a hand curved over his shoulder. He turned the cowboy and pulled him into a hug, laughing.

"/Well done, Irvine! Well done/" he cried, clapping him on the back. "/Not the most elegant I've seen, but effective nonetheless./"

Irvine laughed and extricated himself from Krerah's arms, turning to look at Nirrin who still lay there, shocked. He smirked a little and stepped daintily over the other taken, bending to retrieve his harvest.

"/Thank you, Nirrin/" he said politely, then he and Krerah went back to the camp.

- - - - - - -

The whole camp was abuzz with the news when Zell and Ahshey returned from their border watch. It didn't take them long to discover what had happened and when they did, of course, Zell felt quite justified in strutting just a little more than usual.

He prowled around the edge of the group of natives laughing and talking over their meal, watching Irvine. The cowboy was in animated conversation with Krerah, gesturing and grinning as he fed Jirrah scraps of meat. He was quite obviously proud of himself.

Zell was proud of his cowboy as well.

All thoughts of hunger fled from his mind as he watched lower taken bring food and drink to Krerah and Irvine, watched the new respect they treated him with, and how it had changed the red-head's whole demeanor. Other hungers overtook him and soon he was stalking further around until he could reach out and curl his fingers around Irvine's waist, drawing him bodily off the log he was sitting on.

Irvine yelped and Krerah looked up, showing his teeth until he saw it was Zell and smiled instead, bowing his head in submission. Zell nodded curtly, then removed himself and his taken from the crowd.

"/Zell/" Irvine said, breath a little short from the surprise of being grabbed.

"/Irvine/" Zell growled back, almost carrying his prize back to their teepi. He lay him instantly on the furs when they entered and settled over him. "/I heard what you did today./"

Irvine bit his lower lip.

"/Are you mad…/" the cowboy asked.

"/Far from it/" was the native's reply, fingers expertly undoing his lover's loincloth. "/I knew I had chosen a good taken, a _strong_ taken./"

"/You chose well…/" Irvine whispered with a grin, making Zell growl his approval. His taker was learning well how to please him, and that in itself pleased him.

- - - - - - -

(1) Again, I re-iterate; I've never had a tattoo, so I don't know how bad it is. Even so, I imagine compared to the technology we have, this would be slow, and the needle not nearly as sharp. Each and every prick would be felt. That's how I'm looking at it anyways.

(27) Masochist.

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!


	17. Whipped

Warnings: Only one thing to add – Rinoa Bashing!

Pairings: …

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot, and the various creatures herein (their personalities, that is). I make no money off this fic.

Author's Notes: Was Manifest fun or what! I've never had so many people want to photograph me before! And I yaoi'd with a Zack cosplayer. So much fun! Woo woo! Spent too much… _Anyway_! Now that I don't have costume work on top of uni work, I should be more regular with these updates. I know it's been a long wait, but I'm dying to get back to work on this fic. Please bear with me, and I'm so sorry for how far apart updates have been!

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Seventeen – Whipped._

- - - - - - -

"You're drunk again…"

"I ain't drunk…"

Squall rolled his eyes and dragged the Sheriff's arm over his shoulders, helping him to his feet and leading him out of the saloon.

"You're drunk," he muttered.

"I ain't fuckin' drunk! Jes' leave me there!" Seifer grumbled and tried to push away from his Deputy, but he stumbled and fell into the dust. Moonlight glinted off the tears trailing down the Sheriff's cheeks when he sat back on his knees, fisting his hands in his hair.

"Seifer…" Squall said softly and knelt with him, touching his hand.

"I failed these people, Squall… M'first real test here 'n' I failed… He's up there… 'n' no one knows what might be hap'nin' to 'im…"

"Seifer…" Squall said again, and this time it was exasperated. He helped the Sheriff to his feet again and they made their slow way back to Seifer's little house. "No one thinks you failed but you," he murmured as he sat Seifer at the kitchen table and put the kettle on the stove, bending to light a fire in its belly. Once it was burning and the water was beginning to heat, he went and sat by Seifer.

"I deserve t' be dead…" the Sheriff muttered after a long moment.

"Oh, not that again. Stop being so melodramatic," Squall muttered and Seifer fell silent, save for incoherent muttering to himself.

The Deputy made them both coffee then forced one of the steaming mugs into Seifer's hands and glared at him until he took a mouthful.

They sat in silence, drinking their coffees for a long time before Seifer spoke up again, staring into the half-finished beverage.

"I should have found him…"

Squall rolled his eyes.

"You did your best."

"Yeah. My best just ain't good enough…" Seifer muttered.

Squall sighed and stood, going around the table to rap lightly on Seifer's head.

"Stop being an idiot. Y-"

His words cut off as Seifer's hand snapped up to wrap around his wrist, jerking him into the Sheriff's lap.

"Squall…" Seifer said pleadingly, and when his Deputy opened his mouth to protest, he took that mouth, tongue plunging within. Squall gave a muffled protest, and fought him, but he was off-balance and Seifer held his hands still.

And the slight tingle down his spine was almost enough to make him not _want_ to fight.

There was a knock on the door and they both started, Squall falling out of Seifer's lap and jumping up as though he'd been burned. He put a hand to his mouth, glaring at Seifer.

"What have I told-"

The knock came again, cutting the Deputy off, and Seifer stood, going to answer it.

He didn't look at Squall.

- - - - - - -

A week or so later, Irvine lay curled in the bed furs long after the sun had risen and Zell had left to hunt. He should be up and bathed, tidying the camp and gathering berries and the like for lunch and dinner. But a deep sorrow had suddenly overtaken him, a longing for his parents and friends back in the town. It was sudden, and it was painful.

Irvine rolled over, burying his face and clutched at the fur. Why now? Why had it appeared so suddenly, when he hadn't thought about them since… well, for so long. And that made him feel guilty in turn. He'd forgotten those dear to him so quickly.

He lay there for some time longer before there was a rustling at the teepi entrance and Krerah poked his head in.

"/Do you sleep, still! Now, now, WildBird! This _is_ shameful! Up, up with you and come see what Hira'in has found! You might know what it is, for we don't/"

Irvine made incoherent muttering sounds and rolled over, tugging a fur over his head.

"/Irvine! Up, now/" Krerah demanded, laughing. He entered the teepi more fully and jerked the fur off Irvine. A slight smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes traveled Irvine's form. "/Come, Irvine/"

Irvine grumbled, but he figured laying around wasn't going to help, and he might as well try to take his mind off it. He stood and stretched, aware of Krerah's gaze and blatantly showing off to it. It seemed some of the natives' behaviours were beginning to rub off on him.

Krerah only grinned and watched the cowboy ferret around for some while before he cleared his throat and held up a Torama-skin loincloth.

Irvine bared his teeth slightly, then shoved Krerah's shoulder and took the loincloth, tying it on with a yawn.

"/Come on then. Show me this grand discovery before you forget it and jump on me instead./"

"/Ah, yes…/" Krerah purred, sliding a hand along Irvine's shoulder and down his arm, then catching his wrist with a grin and tugging him outside. "/Come/"

They went at an awkward run, Krerah laughing as his raven hair flew behind him, and soon came to the gaggle of taken and switch that surrounded Hira'in and his 'discovery'. Krerah pushed through, both he and Irvine showing teeth to almost anyone who didn't move, and the second they broke through, Irvine laughed.

"/Of course I know what that is. Hira'in, give it to me/" he said and held out his hand.

Hira'in glanced up, his unusual pale-green eyes wary as he handed over his prize.

Irvine gave a low whistle as he held the handle, running braided leather through his left hand.

"/This is the best craftsmanship I've ever seen…/" he murmured, hoisting it.

"/What is it/" Krerah asked, Hira'in hovering behind him.

"A bullwhip," Irvine said, then translated hurriedly. "/A patch-beast… uh… I don't think you even have a word. Let me show you./" He grinned, licking his lips. "/Back up! Back up/" he said, sweeping an arm around.

"/What…/" Krerah wondered.

"/Back _up_! The length of the rope/"

When they didn't move, Irvine rolled his eyes and placed the handle of the bullwhip on the ground.

"/Hold that there, Hira'in. Don't let it move./" He took hold of the very end of the whip and strode out until it pulled taut, holding his free arm out so that those in front of it had to back up. The others seemed to get the message and in only a moment, there was a circle around him. He went back to where Hira'in and Krerah stood and a gesture sent them to the edge of the pack.

Irvine took hold of the whip and lifted it, watching the end slither across the dusty ground. A grin came to his lips as he drew his hand higher, then brought it down with a flick of his wrist, and the first crack rang out, making the natives all jump and leap back a step. He laughed and let his hand follow through to the back, flicking again and cracking the whip behind him. Again, they twitched, gasping, and there was a cry from the forests, the first of the guards springing out of the trees to come to the aid of the camp.

Krerah threw his head back and crowed with enormous amusement as the whip cracked again and again, Irvine handling it with great skill.

From the herd, Whipcrack warbled merrily.

More takers spilled into camp, brought up short when they saw the gathered taken around Irvine. Those taken separated and fell back when they registered the presence of the takers, and the whole group shifted as men and women moved forward through it to see what was going on.

"/Not too close/" Krerah warned, glancing aside when a hand laid on his shoulder. "/Zell/" he said respectfully, then jerked a thumb at Irvine. "/Your taken continues to impress./"

"/Indeed/" Ahshey agreed, lifting both brows. "/Only how is Zell to get close enough to take his taken with that thing flailing about…/"

Krerah laughed and clapped Zell on the back.

"/Indeed, how/" he cried, then called between cracks. "/Irvine! Your taker is here/"

The whip slithered across the ground to a halt and Irvine turned to grin at Zell, who smiled back, folding his arms across his broad chest and lifting his nose. Irvine turned his gaze to Hira'in.

"/I will trade for this, Hira'in./"

"/What? What would you trade/" the other native wondered.

"/Three quivers of my finest arrows, and a cured Ruby Dragon hide./"

Hira'in considered.

"/Three quivers of your finest arrows, a cured Ruby Dragon hide, and first breeding rights to your chocobo with one of my females./"

Irvine arched his brows, and the natives closest to them murmured among themselves.

"/You _want_ to breed with Whipcrack…/"

Hira'in nodded.

"/Feathers that colour will trade for a fortune to other camps. I want him for stud, and I'll take the entire first brood./"

"/No, you won't. No braided leather with a handle attached is worth an entire brood of chocobos/" Zell said, glaring.

"/Half, then/" Hira'ni said hastily. "/And you can have the extra if there are odd numbers./"

Irvine put his hand out before Zell could argue further and, with a grin, Hira'ni slapped his own down against it.

"/Your taken accepts for you, Snake/" he said laughingly, then melted into the dispersing crowd before Zell could retort.

Instead, sapphire eyes fell on Irvine.

"/It was my trade to begin with/" Irvine said, aborting whatever Zell would say. "/I fletch the arrows, I cured the hide-/"

"/I hunted the dragon/"

Irvine ignored him.

"/I _own_ the chocobo! If you really want, I'll go out and hunt my own Ruby Dragon, and cure that hide too/"

Zell arched his brows, but then he merely shook his head and gave a rueful grin.

"/I see there are some things I will never train out of you…/" he said. "/And you have impressed the others with your special skill, so you must have your… thing./" He indicated the whip.

"Whip," Irvine told him, laughing.

"Whip?" Krerah repeated then, finally understanding. "Whipcrack!"

Again, Irvine laughed.

"Yes. Whipcrack," he affirmed, looping the whip several times, then slinging it over his arm.

"/Enough talk of Irvine's bird/" Zell muttered. "/We still have much work to do./"

The crowd had dispersed, back to their various jobs and Irvine looked at Zell, twisting his hands in front of him. Then Zell smiled, and the tension went out of the cowboy's shoulders.

"/I didn't mean to take over, I just… I… was missing home and, like, I wanted to have it…/"

Zell shook his head.

"/No matter. Just next time don't use your whip when I'm stalking a Grendel…/"

Irvine laughed and hugged his lover tight.

"/I'll make up for it tonight, my love… In all the best ways./"

The native growled appreciatively and pressed a kiss to Irvine's mouth before he disappeared back into the trees.

- - - - - - -

The stagecoach rattled into town with its usual racket, the six tired, heavy-legged chocobos that pulled it warking softly as they came to a halt. (1) The driver straightened his hat, and spat to the side before clambering down, tugging on his belt to pull up his pants. He opened the stagecoach door and stood back.

A boot was the first thing to exit the coach, knee-high and red with silver buckles. The stiletto heel was at least two inches tall. Then the rest of the woman belonging to the boot exited to a chorus of catcalls and whistles from the saloon as her flamboyant red skirts fell over the boot, but not before she showed a little thigh. Lace ringed the skirts, and the bodice was ridiculously tight, laced to a point where it almost caused her breasts to push out over the top of the beading that lined the edge of the neckline. Ringlets of gold hair kissed bare shoulders and curled around a slender neck emphasised by an enormous pearl which sat against her throat, held by a thick black ribbon. Most of her hair sat atop her head in a complicated style which was laced with beads and jewels, and a pair of glasses was perched on the end of her nose. Blue eyes surveyed the men over the top of the glasses and she smiled slightly, then stepped the rest of the way off the coach.

Half a dozen women, all giggling and talking, spilled off the coach behind her.

"Chop, chop ladies," she chirped. "There's work to be done."

They gathered their luggage and followed the first woman around the coach and across the dusty road to the disused two-storey building that stood there.

The men glanced at one another as the convoy disappeared from view, then the whole saloon burst into excited chatter. The barmaids glanced at one another as well and made faces. Part of the reason men stayed that one drink longer was because of the women's low necklines, but all the men knew the two of them wouldn't stand for any funny business – besides, one of them was the Deputy's girl.

A brothel right across from them was the last thing the saloon needed.

- - - - - - -

"Alright, girls. Get to work. We'll have this place ready in no time. Trixie, sweep out this lower floor, and Drucilla, I want you doing the same upstairs. Lulubell, take Luanne and do the bathrooms – make sure those tubs are spotless. Katie-" The tall blonde woman cut off, looking around. "Where did that girl go!"

Luanne lifted a hand, pointing out to the veranda, where Katie stood with a cigar between her fingers, waving at the men across the street.

"_Katie_!" She stalked outside and snatched the cigar out of Katie's fingers, tossing it over her shoulder before she ushered the girl back inside. "What have I told you about those? No man is going to pay for a girl who passes out because she can't breathe half way through! Now, I want you to clean the windows upstairs."

"But, Ma'am-"

"No. No buts. Off you go." She watched Katie go, then turned to the one remaining girl. "You and I will do something about the state of these chimneys, Penelope."

"Yes'm," the girl said, smiling a little and ducking her head.

The place was a flurry of industry for the next half a day, until the windows were so clean it was as if there were no glass, the tubs in the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms shone bright as the moon, not a speck of dust lay anywhere, and the beds had all be aired and returned to their previous places.

"Why'd the last lot leave the place, Madam Quistis?" Trixie wondered as they all rested over a cup of tea and some hastily-made sandwiches.

"There wasn't enough business back then. But the town has grown since then, and married men have fathered sons who aren't yet at the stage of marrying."

The girls all giggled, chattering among themselves and Quistis turned her eyes to the saloon across the way, a slow smile curving her elegant lips. With all the cattle drives and the like that passed through the town, it was now a prime area for business, and she had little doubt that one or two of the town girls would jump at the chance to work for her – they always did.

Yes. She liked this town already.

- - - - - - -

It was as if it had never happened. Neither Seifer or Squall had mentioned it since it had happened, though they were both short and stilted with one another. They said no more than needed to be said.

Right now, Seifer thought Squall would probably like it if his girl said no more than needed to be said, because she had been going on for the last half hour about the women who had moved in across from the saloon. Seifer had no idea what she was talking about. Evidently, neither did his Deputy, because eventually Squall cut across her natterings with;

"What exactly are you accusing these women of, Rinoa…?"

"They… they're… they're… wh… they're wh… women of _ill repute_!"

Seifer just stared at her but Squall arched both brows.

"They're whores?"

The woman blushed, which amused Seifer greatly. She tried to pretend she was _so_ innocent, but he wasn't the only man in town who'd heard the stories about _her_.

"_Yes_!" she said breathlessly.

"Then… you think they're opening a brothel? On the _main street_ of town?"

"No, I don't _think_ that, they _are_ opening a brothel on the main street of town!"

"Please," Seifer said from behind his Deputy. "No one would be that stupid."

She glared at him, putting her fists on her hips and puffing out her chest. Seifer fought the urge to laugh, almost failed, but swallowed the explosion at the last second when Squall glared at him as well.

"Alright, alright. We'll check it out," Squall said exasperatedly, and probably just to shut her up.

"We will?" Seifer wondered to the air.

"_Yes_," Squall muttered. "Go back to work, Rinoa. We'll be there directly."

Rinoa looked hard at him for a minute, then turned on her heel and flounced out.

"Is she phenomenal in bed or something?" Seifer wondered. "Because I see no appeal whatsoever…"

"We both know she's not your type," Squall ground out, then; "C'mon."

"Who's the Sheriff 'round here?" Seifer said, but Squall was already out the door and didn't hear him.

Rinoa was almost out of sight when they exited, so she must be going at quite a pace, Seifer thought as he and Squall strode toward the center of town. The stagecoach was just leaving when they arrived, the driver evidently having had quite a long liquid breakfast. It was a good thing the chocobos had made the trip so many times, they didn't really need his help. The inn's stable-boy was leading away the last of the road-weary chocobos that had been switched off the coach and he tipped his hat to Sheriff and Deputy, who nodded back.

A woman sat in a rocking chair on the veranda of the house across the way from the saloon and Seifer tucked his thumbs in his belt as they walked over. She was sewing a hole in a skirt and she looked up from her work when their boots fell on the wooden stairs.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," she said politely. "What can I do for you?"

"Afternoon, Ma'am," Seifer said, and took the hand she proffered, brushing a chaste kiss across gloved knuckles. "Name's Seifer Almasy. I'm Sheriff here-"

"I gathered by your badge," she cut in dryly, nodding at it. "I'm a woman, not an idiot."

Seifer was taken aback by that, but he didn't let it show.

"Sorry Ma'am. I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort," he said smoothly. "I hope you won't be insulted if I get directly to the point. We've had reports you're preparing to open a brothel here."

She arched both golden brows and Seifer had the uncanny feeling he'd met her before.

"A _brothel_, Sheriff?" she repeated. "Who on earth would have told you that – wait, let me guess. The little bar-girl with the black hair, right?"

Squall arched a brow now and she winked at him.

"Observant," he allowed, then at her questioning look; "Squall Leonhart." He indicated his badge and she grinned.

"Well, gentleman, I'm doing nothing of the sort. We're seamstresses." She held up her sewing.

"Mind if we take a look around?" Seifer asked.

"Not at all," she said. "Come right in." She lifted a hand and the two men entered the large house.

A little brunette looked up from a pile of holed socks and smiled at them, lowering her eyes demurely to her work. Throughout the house, all they found were industriously working women, all polite and far from whore-like.

They both knew it was a front, but they couldn't throw the women in jail on a hunch. The madam was smiling at them with an 'I win' expression that made Seifer want to smack her.

"Well," Seifer remarked as they headed across the street for a drink. "Things in town sure will be more interesting now…"

Squall chuckled and they pushed open the double swinging doors together. They were instantly bombarded with questions about the women opposite, much to the displeasure of Rinoa and her compatriot.

- - - - - - -

(1) I wish I could draw! I see these guys so clearly in my head. Clydesdale chocobos! Woo!

- - - - - - -

Authors Notes: Go Quistis! I love her so hardcore in this fic. Again, sorry for the wait. –bows to readers-


	18. Pierced

Warnings: Seriously, if you're still reading, you don't care anyway.

Pairings: Yeah, you know.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, only the plot and personalities of creatures and all the natives except Zell and Kiros.

Author's Notes: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! RP is fun.

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Eighteen: Pierced._

As Seifer had predicted, things did indeed get more interesting.

He and Squall would sit in the salon for hours watching men go back and forth from the 'seamstresses', with some bit of clothing that supposedly had suffered a tear or hole. They would come out again some time later, looking very satisfied and with a 'repaired' piece of clothing.

Yet, no matter what time they barged into the place, be it five minutes or an hour or three hours after a man had entered, they would always find the women sewing away, and the man waiting patiently for his 'repair'. They simply couldn't fathom it. Even if Madam Quistis and her girls could see them coming (and they had used various techniques to avoid _that_ happening) how on earth could they get a man off a woman and looking respectable again in only a few seconds?

Squall had even starting taking his darning to them, much to Rinoa's displeasure. His calm assertion one evening in the saloon after one too many ales that their stitching was finer and stronger than hers had actually earned him a slap.

This particular night, the Madam had left her girls to their work, whatever that might be, and come across to the saloon for a drink. Her low-cut bodice and high-cut boots instantly leant an air of tension to the room, as each man tried to catch her eye. She ignored them all, and went to sit with Seifer and Squall. She seemed oblivious – or impervious – to the evil stares she was receiving from Rinoa. In fact, she leaned forward and laid a hand on Squall's thigh.

"Now, boys," she started without preamble, while Squall stared at her hand and Seifer tried not to asphyxiate due to held-in laughter. "I know and you know I'm providing a valuable service to this town. Furthermore, we all know you're never going to catch me at it. Nevertheless, your frequent interruptions are becoming an irritation I don't want to have to deal with. Surely… _surely_ there's something we can work out…?"

Her hand slid deeper between Squall's legs and moved upward, at which he firmly took hold of her wrist and removed the hand, arching a brow.

"Believe me," he said lowly. "When I tell you neither of us is at all interested."

"Oh…" she said, a smirk curving her bright red lips. "I know _he_ isn't…" And she nodded in Seifer's direction, obliterating the Sheriff's hilarity.

She _knew_.

They exchanged a glance, then their eyes turned back to the Madam, who was sitting back now, sipping her drink and watching them knowingly. Her eyes flickered between them, then away to the men who sat around talking and laughing uproariously. She made herself easy to read, at least for them. _Who shall I tell first…?_

"_Bitch_!" Seifer hissed.

She chuckled.

"Just protecting my livelihood, boys. I've got seven mouths to feed, including my own. No more rolling up unannounced…" she trailed off and smirked, watching them over the rims of her glasses. "Unless it's for our unique services."

Seifer curled his lip and Squall glared at her, but she only smiled sweetly and ordered another drink.

"Ma'am, you ain't paid for the first'n," the bartender said uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot.

"That's alright," she said with a smile. "It's on the Sheriff."

The man looked to Seifer who reluctantly nodded.

"Interesting…" Squall said with a sarcastic twist and a roll of his eyes. "_Interesting_, he says…"

Seifer just glared at him.

- - - - - - -

"/No./"

"/I don't recall giving you a choice in this matter./"

"/And I don't care. I'm not doing it./"

"/You are my taken-/"

"/_And_ as such shall do as you say, I know! But not this time, Zell. Not this time!/"

Zell was completely dumbstruck by his taken's pure audacity. Not only was he refusing to do as he was told, but he had even gone so far as cut Zell off in the middle of a sentence. He could only stare at the auburn haired man, whose arms were folded across his slender chest and whose face was set.

He didn't even have the courtesy to look _uncomfortable_ with his disobedience.

In the last couple of weeks since Irvine had taken possession of his new whip, Zell had found his cowboy less and less inclined to disobey. He was becoming more used to his place and, in fact, the native was fairly certain he was enjoying it, was glad to be a taken.

This was the first time in quite a while the cowboy had even _looked_ like disobeying. Zell was infinitely glad no one was around to see it.

"Irvine-" he said through his teeth, but his taken _again_ cut him off.

"Zell," he replied in the same tone. "/I said _no_. You are _not_ putting holes in me just because you think it'll look good./"

"/I _know_ it will look good,/" Zell clarified, taking a menacing step towards Irvine, who didn't even _flinch_. "/Furthermore, I _know_ you will do what I tell you./"

"/We will see about that,/" Irvine growled, and he walked out.

Zell stared as the teepi flap fell back into place, actually rubbing his eyes, because he was sure he was seeing things. Sure enough, Irvine had walked out on him. He snarled snatched up an arrow yet to be fletched, breaking it in two and throwing the pieces against the tanned wall. Jirrah woke up with a gurgled cry, then settled again when he realised he wasn't in danger.

How dare he? How _dare_ he?!

It was almost enough to drive a man to hit his taken, something Zell prided himself on never, ever doing. Nor was he about to start now. Although, wringing that pretty neck was, at present, a particularly tempting thought…

But to go after Irvine would be to loose even more face. The way he was behaving, the native didn't doubt his taken would continue to argue with him, even in front of everyone else. That was something he would _not_ tolerate. For the moment, he had to admit defeat and let it be until he had Irvine alone again, much as it irritated him to let the redhead win the argument – even if it was only for a short time.

- - - - - - -

"/And you… said no…?/"

"/Damn right I said _no_! Who does he think he is, going around telling me to, like, put holes in myself?!/"

"/He… is your taker…/"

"/Krerah… that wasn't a question I wanted an answer for. It's called a /rhetorical/ question. And anyway, would _you_ let Ahshey poke holes in you on a whim?/"

"/I would let Ahshey do anything he desires,/" Krerah replied instantly, looking at Irvine as though he were stupid for not knowing that. "/He knows best./"

The cowboy stared at his friend, who blinked back at him in total disbelief. Clearly, Krerah was not lying. He _would_ let Ahshey do whatever he wanted. Irvine knew they'd had this discussion before, and that all the taken believed it their place to do what they were told, when they were told. More to the point, he knew he'd been just as pliable in recent times, and perfectly happy with it. But to go so far as to agree to _bodily mutilation_? No. He wouldn't do it.

"/About everything?/" the cowboy wondered.

"/Yes. Everything./" Krerah said, then reached for Irvine's hand. "/Irvine… Zell would never do anything that he didn't think would be good for you. He _loves_ you./"

"/Some way he's got of showing it…/" Irvine muttered and he took his hand back and stood, having expected Krerah to take his side. On hindsight, he realised, he should never have expected that.

- - - - - - -

Later that evening, as the camp was settling down to its meal, Zell touched his elbow. He glanced at the native, arching a brow in question.

"/I want you to come back to the teepi for dinner. I have made something for you, and I would be alone with you to… apologise… for today…/" The word "apologise" seemed almost to hurt his taker and Irvine couldn't help a mental laugh at that. He was surprised, but pleased that the native seemed to have realised why he was upset.

He nodded slightly and stood, taking Zell's offered hand and letting the native lead him back to the teepi. Zell held the flap open for him and he ducked inside to a warm fire and two clay plates laden with fish and various vegetables. He licked his lips and sat, smiling at his lover when he was passed one of the plates. Jirrah settled against his side and he absently stroked the Gayla.

"/Thank you…/" he said softly as they ate, aware of the intensity in Zell's gaze. "/I… I'm sorry I argued with you too… I just… I… I…/" He put a hand to his forehead, feeling suddenly light-headed and fuzzy. He shook his head a little in an effort to clear it, but the fog only thickened. "/What…? Zell… you… _didn't_!/"

The last thing he saw before he fell into a deep sleep was Zell's smug, triumphant smile.

- - - - - -

It was, too, the first thing he saw when he woke again. He tried to speak, but found his mouth almost painfully dry. Zell offered him water and he sat up to take a drink.

"/Not too much,/" Zell warned, taking the water away to prevent him over-drinking. "/You have been sleeping for a whole night and day./"

"/What…?/" Irvine's voice didn't sound like his own and he had to clear his throat and try again. "/What happened?/"

Zell just looked at him and it slowly began to filter back in.

"/You… you _drugged_ me!/"

"/You would not listen to me,/" Zell said calmly.

"/So you… How could you?!/"

Zell only smiled and ran his eyes down to Irvine's chest. Irvine looked down as well. A gold hoop now adorned each nipple, and from the left one, a soft chocobo-down feather hung. When Irvine looked back up, eyes wide, Zell presented him with a mirror, showing him the new piercings.

"/They suit you,/" the native said with a growl in his voice that Irvine knew very well by now. Irvine blinked, lips parted a little, and stared at his reflection. They _did_ look good, Zell wasn't lying, but that didn't change the fact that his _lover_ had drugged him and taken the liberty of _putting holes in his body_ without his permission!

He glared at the native, stood, and left the teepi.

Ahshey and Krerah were not exactly happy to see him, since when he arrived, the former had his fingers inside the latter, who was panting and whimpering. The taker arched both his brows and gave Irvine a scorching look.

"/Do you make a habit of bursting in at such an hour as this?/" he asked in a low growl.

"I-Irvine…?" Krerah whispered, but fell silent, gripping at the furs when Ahshey "shh'd" him.

"/Remove yourself from my teepi this instant and return to Zell's, lest I throw you over my shoulder and _carry_ you there, taken./"

"/But, I-/

"/Maybe your taker lets you get away with arguing – though, judging by your enforced sleep and your new adornments I may be mistaken – but I will not stand for you interrupting or talking back to me./"

"/But, Ahshey, I just want-/"

"/Nor will you address me by my name when I am telling you to do something and you _are not doing it_! Go! Leave us!/"

"/I can't go back, Ahsh- taker. Please, let me stay./"

Krerah made a growling sort of sound in the back of his throat, only to be shushed again.

"/Much as my taken would likely enjoy that, I will not let you stay. Go, taken, now./"

When Irvine only stood there, averting his eyes from them, but refusing to leave, Ahshey showed his teeth and, much to Krerah's vocal displeasure, he took his hand away and stood.

"/Ahshey, please… please don't… stop…/" Krerah begged, squirming on the furs.

"/I must, my love, and you know this. I won't be long. Your need for me will only grow while I am gone,/" Ahshey said as he tied on his loincloth, eyes cold as he watched Irvine.

Krerah said no more, but his breathing was harsh in their ears. Irvine grit his teeth and started to speak.

"/I'm sorry, Krerah, I-/"

"/Silence, taken!/" Ahshey growled and, true to his word, before Irvine could react, he had wrapped his arms around the cowboy's waist and thrown him over his shoulder.

"/No! I'll go! I'll _go_!/" Irvine cried, trying to wriggle free of the hold that had him eye-to-cheek with Ahshey's behind.

"/I said _silence_!/" the native snapped and Irvine was further mortified by the ringing slap delivered to his own behind by a dark hand. Suffice it to say, he fell silent, and bore with the indignity of being carried across the camp.

- - - - - - -

"/I believe this is _yours_,/" Ahshey growled, dumping Irvine at his taker's feet. "/And I would thank you not to let it interrupt me while I'm taking mine!/"

"/He didn't…/" Zell said, highly embarrassed his taken would do such a thing.

"/He _did_. And, what's more, when told to leave, he didn't. I have left my taken half-ready and sobbing with need of me because I had to return yours to you. Perhaps you ought to fashion him a tether!/"

With that, Ahshey turned on his heel and left.

"/Stay here,/" Zell growled at Irvine, who remained where he had been deposited, blushing hotly. "/Do _not_ move./"

He went after Ahshey.

"/Brother, I'm sorry, I-/"

Ahshey turned, gesturing violently at Zell.

"/You _will_ be sorry if your taken continues this ridiculous behaviour. I'll put up with much from him because he _is_ beautiful and he _does_ love you, but to remain standing in my teepi when I told him _repeatedly_ to leave… this is inexcusable! He forced me to leave Krerah in _agony_, to leave him on the brink of my entering him. No taken should be left thus! You know this to be true, and I expect you to make sure your taken knows this to be true. You are my _brother_ and his misbehaviour doesn't only reflect badly on you, Zell. You know what it means, what it does to the family. If he _ever_ disobeys me like that again, he will get more than the smack I gave him…/"

Zell's eyes narrowed.

"/You struck him?/" he hissed.

"/No…/" Ahshey purred, a smirk breaking through his scowl to curve his lips. "/I _spanked_ him…/" He licked his upper-lip, the smirk growing, and turned, striding off into the night before Zell could think of anything to say to that.

He returned to the teepi to find Irvine examining his piercings in the mirror, Jirrah curling around and around the cowboy's legs. The native stood in silence, arms folded, until his taken turned, giving a short gasp when he saw Zell.

"/You have greatly embarrassed me, taken,/" Zell said, using the title with an air of command instead of as an endearment. "/What have you to say for yourself?/"

Irvine looked at him for a long moment, then turned away and went to the furs, laying down.

"/I'm going to sleep,/"

"/You are doing no such thing,/" Zell retorted, shooing Jirrah out, then also going to the furs with a grim determination. "/You are learning a most important lesson./"

He used his greater strength to turn Irvine onto his back, dragging his tongue from navel to chest over and over again until the cowboy finally began to react, body undulating in response to the hot, wet stroking. Oh, yes. Zell knew how to manipulate his taken's body…

Irvine gave a soft cry when Zell's attentions finally turned to his nipples, and he was soon thanking the native every way he could think of that they'd been forced upon him. Zell paused to give his taken an "I-told-you-so" lecture, but soon went back to his work, licking and sucking at the cowboy's nipples, though he was careful to avoid the feather. That was not something he particularly wanted in his mouth…

He took an age, bringing Irvine to a state of begging and whimpering, and just when the cowboy insisted he was going to burst, he finally gave him what he wanted, pressing a slick finger within him. A second followed, until Irvine was trembling with need, twisting his hands in the furs.

Zell blinked slowly and removed his fingers, then moved away from his panting, glistening taken. He hated to do so, his own need for Irvine a burning, molten thing writhing in his belly, but Irvine would understand what he had done to Krerah this night in the most basic of ways – by experiencing it himself.

"/Please…/" he whimpered, slitting his eyes open to look at Zell. "/Please, Zell… I… need…/"

"/Does it hurt, Irvine…?/" Zell wondered gently, knowing full well it did, because he felt it too, and was further embarrassed by what his taken had done to Ahshey and Krerah.

"/Yes… _yes_! It hurts… ple-ease…/"

"/Do you see, now, what you did to Krerah, in refusing to leave when you were told to? Never should you disobey any taker, unless what he or she is asking goes against what you know my wishes to be. Do you understand?/"

"/Yes… I under… understand… please, Zell, please…/" His hand wandered across his own skin and Zell growled, gratified when Irvine whimpered, but laid the hand flat against his hip.

"/Remember this, for I will remind you of it when you are not so desperate with need of me…/"

Irvine nodded mutely and Zell was only too glad to roll atop him and enter him, to a pleased cry from his taken and an equally pleased groan from himself.

Later, they lay curled together and Irvine was the first to break the silence, his voice soft and contrite.

"/I… I'm sorry… that I argued with you… that… I embarrassed you… in front of Ahshey… I swear… it won't happen again. It won't…/"

"/It had best not,/" Zell muttered, remembering Ahshey's words, and knowing them for the truth they were. "/I have risked more than you know to bring you here, and I cannot afford for you to indulge in such ridiculous behaviours./"

"/I-I know…/"

He _didn't_ know, but that he thought he did was enough for Zell. The native stroked his fingers through Irvine's hair, smiling when his taken sighed and melted in that irresistible way against him at the touch.

"/I love you./"

"/Mmm… I love you, too…/" Irvine yawned, eyes flickering shut. "/And you… you were right… they look… really… good…/"

Zell smirked, knowing full well what Irvine was referring to, and gratified by the cowboy's realisation. However, that the redhead could ever have thought his taker_ wouldn't_ be right displeased Zell greatly.

"/I,/" he said firmly. "/am always right…/"

Irvine gave a tired smile and nodded.

"/Mmm… you always are…/"

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Kitty has finished Uni for_eva_! Yayayayayayayayayaaaaaaaay! And in other news – I freaking love Ahshey. Go those seme-semes! XD


	19. Relaxed

Warnings: Sex! Wheeee! Also Rinoa bashing.

Pairings: Blah blah…

Disclaimer: Yes, yes. I know, I don't own Zell or Irvine, despite what I might think. tears I don't own Kiros or Seifer or Squall. Waaaah! I don't own Rinoa – yay! – and I don't own Quistis – buu. Did I miss anyone? Ah well. I don't own anyone who isn't mine, but I do own everyone else! Ha!

Author's Notes: I love this chapter.

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Nineteen – Relaxed._

Seifer could see it. He didn't know how in the world Rinoa couldn't. The tension along Squall's shoulders, the way his mouth was held, tight and thin-lipped, the way one hand fisted in his lap and the other clutched a beer glass, leashed violence in every line of his body. Why didn't she just shut up?

She was going around in circles anyway.

"…n't need that sort of thing here! There are plenty of _decent_ and _clean_ women around who only want a bit of kindness-"

"And a wedding ring…" Seifer muttered, but she went on as though she hadn't heard him. Squall gave a very slight snort of amusement.

"-and aren't they hundreds of times better than those… those… _women of ill repute_?!"

If he heard that _phrase_ one more time, Seifer was sorely tempted to put his pistol to his own head. Or, even better, hers. Did she _practice_ being obnoxious and keeping her voice at just the right irritating pitch that it was impossible to ignore? The Sheriff massaged his temples in a futile effort to dissipate some of the pain building behind his right eye. Fuck. Could the woman even bring on a migraine?

"They're _seamstresses_," Squall finally said through his teeth, gesturing through the saloon window to indicate Penelope sitting on the verandah sewing a skirt.

"Oh, _please_!" Rinoa sneered as though he were stupid, at which Seifer swore he saw a vein throbbing in Squall's forehead. "That's a _front_! You're the lawmen around here! Go… do some law!"

Seifer choked on his mouthful of beer at the absurdity of the statement, totally unphased by the glare Rinoa shot his way. Squall glanced at him, then finally exploded. The Sheriff had known it was imminent, but hadn't predicted the ferocity of it.

"Will you _shut_ the _fuck up_!" the Deputy snarled, surging to his feet and grabbing her arm. "We know our job, but we can't catch them at anything! _Anything_! No matter how hard we try, or how suddenly we arrive, there is _never_ anything going on, except women sewing and men waiting for their clothes! We have better things to do than waste our time on futile ventures!"

"S-Squall…"

She sounded terrified, Seifer reflected with vicious glee. His headache was already beginning to ease.

"I said _shut up_! You know what?"

By now, the whole saloon was listening, even the pianist having stopped to watch. They all leaned forward to hear what Squall would say as Rinoa shook her head, tears in her wide eyes.

"Seifer was right about you…"

The Sheriff blinked as Rinoa glanced his way, then back to Squall when he gave her a little shake to make her pay attention to him.

"He-" This time she cut off under the force of his glare.

"You _are_ an annoying, whiney, _annoying_ thing. I can't say as I can remember what it was about you that made me ask you to be my girl… Whatever it was, it's faded, and I can't take your incessant chatter anymore."

"But… b-but I'm your girl…" she stammered, the tears spilling over.

"Not anymore," Squall growled, and stood, downing the rest of his beer in one go and stalking out of the saloon.

Gulping down the last of his own, Seifer tipped his hat in mock politeness to the trembling woman, and hurried after his Deputy.

"So annoying. I can't _believe_ I never noticed she was _so fucking annoying_!" Squall spat when they were roughly halfway to the jailhouse.

"Well, I did tell you," Seifer replied calmly, unable to keep the manic glee at what had just happened out of his voice.

"You're _almost_ as annoying," Squall muttered. "Do you have to be so fucking pleased with yourself?"

"Oh, hell yes. That was the best thing I've seen in months, including that night when the Reine brothers got drunk and fell through the piano because they thought, somehow, that it would take the weight of three men dancing a jig."

Squall rolled his eyes.

"You are _so_ juvenile sometimes…" he growled, throwing open the door to the jailhouse and stalking inside. He went instantly to the hidden liquor cabinet under Seifer's desk and poured himself a shot of brandy. "I can't believe I just did that…"

"It was a long time coming…"

"Her father will kill me."

"And you say I'm juvenile…"

"Shut _up_!"

"You're just pissed because now you'll have to work to get laid."

Squall tried to glare at him, but the utterly calm and matter-of-fact tone made the statement strangely funny and he gave a snort of laughter instead. It wasn't long before they were laughing madly, and whatever tension had built up between them since Seifer's amorous drunkenness evaporated.

They both found they were infinitely glad for that fact, and spent the rest of the evening getting mind-numbingly drunk and swapping stories of increasing lewdness.

And they didn't even have to worry about being interrupted by Rinoa. Seifer thought, all in all, it had been a very good evening.

- - - - - - -

Time was passing at an odd pace for Irvine. Every so often he would think of his family, and it would take him several hours to get past it, during which he wouldn't talk to anyone, and he would turn aside Zell's advances, despite how frustrated or irritated the native became. Most of this time he spent guilty that the rest of the time, they never even crossed his mind. Guilty that he didn't think about home, or the people there, but his entire focus was on Zell and the jobs he did around the camp, the time he spent with Krerah and Ahshey and other taken, or tending Whipcrack.

Inevitably, Zell would bring him out of it, and it would go from his mind for days or weeks or maybe even months. He had completely lost track of how long he'd been with Zell. The camp had moved five times, and his life had fallen into a happy rhythm, in which there really wasn't a lot of work for him to do, since every job was communal and there were so many people to do them.

At least, it was generally happy. Now, he had slipped into one of his morose stupors, and had no desire to leave his bed. Worse, Zell and Ahshey were on an extended hunting trip, trailing a large, migratory confusion of chimera which only passed by every two years. The chimera were valued for almost everything on them, so the party of five takers was to bring down at least ten of the creatures.

Zell's absence left Irvine in a very bad place.

Around noon, Krerah, of course, came looking for him.

"/Irvine…? What goes on here? Why do you stay in these sleeping furs when we could be doing so many interesting things? It's not our turn to do _anything_ today, and you lay around wasting that?/"

"/Go away,/" was Irvine's only reply.

Krerah lifted his brows and dropped to all fours crawling across the soft snow-lion pelt, shooing Jirrah off, and curling long fingers around the edge to draw it down so Irvine's eyes were showing.

"/What's this, then? Are you pining for your lover…?/" Krerah teased, surprised when Irvine snarled at him and tugged the fur back up.

"/Go _away_, Krerah…/" he growled.

"/No, indeed. Both our takers would be displeased with me if I left you now. What's wrong? I miss Ahshey, but I'm up and enjoying my day./"

"/…You don't understand…/" Irvine said mournfully, deep depression almost bringing him to tears. He wished he could share Krerah's carefree nature.

"/I think I may…/" Krerah said gently, and he tugged the fur down again, pressing himself against the curve of Irvine's body through the soft blue-white. "/You haven't been parted from Zell since you _met_ him. You miss him, yes?/"

"/No, that's not/-"

Irvine's words abruptly failed him, and got lost somewhere in Krerah's mouth, for it was suddenly pressed to his own in a strange kiss that was neither dominant nor submissive, yet somehow between the two. The cowboy drew back, blinking in shock, and Krerah's teeth flashed a self-satisfied smirk at him.

"/I can help you cheer up, I think,/" he purred, voice almost unnaturally liquid and hot. Irvine suddenly thought he needed to learn to use his voice like that, because he held little doubt it would have Zell desperate to do whatever his taken asked with it.

"/But… Krerah… I… you… and our takers… they…/"

Krerah sat back, pushing his thick hair behind his shoulder and looking at him with that smirk fixed in place. Irvine shivered.

"/Do you think that our takers, as virulent and demandingly needy as they are, would remain celibate for even a _week_?/"

Irvine opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to reconcile the word "celibate" with the word "Zell". No, he thought, the native probably wouldn't. Since they had first slept together, there had rarely been more than two days between some sort of contact and some sort of release. He gaped at Krerah.

"/But… b-but.../"

"/Zell and Ahshey, I am sure, know each other _very_ well, Irvine. They've been there for each other a lot longer than you or I have been there for them. And I don't doubt they are there for each other now…/"

"/But…/" Irvine said again. "/But they're _bro_-/"

Krerah didn't let him finish, again taking his lips for that strange in between kiss, and Irvine found he didn't have the heart to fight it. It occurred to him that he, too, had grown used to pleasuring and being pleasured on a very regular basis, even more regular than when he'd been bedding any town girl who was willing. He began to return the kiss, but suddenly pulled away, a hand to his mouth.

"/Krerah… our takers… Zell… he wouldn't like… he's so… _possessive_… and-/"

"Shh…" Krerah soothed. "/I won't take you just as you would never take me. We will simply help each other get through this time without our takers… yes…?/"

He pressed closer, knowing exactly how to manipulate Irvine through years of being manipulated, played by his taker like a harp. His tongue curled against the hollow of the cowboy's throat and Irvine sighed, letting his eyes slip half-shut.

He needed _something_ to save him from the circling of his thoughts anyway, he reflected as he lifted his hand, twisting his fingers in Krerah's hair. The native chuckled, that same arrogance that seemed innate to their race in the sound.

"/There. This will not be so hard, now will it?/"

"/I don't know as much of anything will be very successful if it's not hard…/" Irvine replied mildly, reaching for the tie of Krerah's loincloth, and the native snickered at him, then pressed another kiss to his lips. It took Irvine a little while to figure out how it worked, with a flicker of tongues that never quite dipped too deep, but he got the hang of it in a little while and Krerah grinned at him.

"/I'm sure our takers will be pleased we looked after one another,/" he said, shifting to throw back the snow-lion pelt. He made a low noise and Irvine smirked, stretching and twisting, showing off. "/Ai! But you _are_ beautiful…/" Krerah said, smoothing a hand down Irvine's front.

"/I'm not the only one,/" Irvine replied, sitting up to run his own hand along Krerah's dark thigh.

Krerah grinned and tossed his head a little.

"/Well, that goes without saying./"

Irvine laughed as Krerah pressed him onto his back again, licking along his throat then up to kiss him yet again. He made a low noise into the native's mouth when long fingers wrapped around his length, stroking gently.

"/Your taker always boasts of how sensitive and responsive you are. I will be glad to find out if he tells the truth…/" Krerah murmured, wriggling down his body to lick at a pierced nipple. Irvine gasped, arching his back and buried his fingers in Krerah's hair, eyes flickering shut. His other hand ran down the long, smooth spine to rest in the small of the native's back and he let out his breath in a slow moan.

Not one to be outdone, however, Irvine soon ran his hand lower, dipping his fingers to brush against Krerah's entrance. The native twitched and lost the rhythm of his tongue, moaning against Irvine's skin and the cowboy smirked, rubbing slow, repetitive circles that made Krerah tremble.

"/I feel you might be much the same…/" Irvine murmured, making one more particularly firm movement. Krerah cried out breathlessly against his chest, his hands fisting in the furs beneath Irvine.

"/Ai! Stop!/" he whimpered, at which Irvine only smirked, and repeated the movement. Krerah twisted against him and the cowboy's smirk grew as another cry rang against his skin. "/_Stop_! Please!/"

Using Krerah's distraction to his advantage, Irvine switched their positions, rolling the native onto his back. He took his hand away and gave Krerah a few moments to regain himself and open his dark blue eyes.

"/My turn…/" Irvine purred, delighted by Krerah's shiver, and he moved down to nip at a dark nipple before taking it between his lips and suckling. Krerah gave a keening moan, proving to Irvine that he was not the only one who couldn't control his vocalisations at being pleasured. He buried his fingers in the strands of Krerah's hair where they lay across the furs and spent some time on the nipple before moving to the next.

"Irvine!" Krerah whined, his voice tight. "Ai, Irvine…"

Irvine "Mmm"d around the treat in his mouth, making Krerah gasp, and he ran his hand up the inside of his friend's thigh, fingertips finding and teasing along the underside of his length. At that, Krerah's hips bucked and he moaned throatily, clutching at the furs and burying his other hand in Irvine's hair.

He teased Krerah, moving away from his chest and kissing a painfully slow path down his body, hovering here and there, interspersing the kisses with swipes of his tongue and nips of his teeth until the native was making a tiny sound with every exhale. Zell had taught him _very_ well… He lapped at Krerah's navel, stroking his thigh until he whimpered, then finally relented and stroked his tongue across the tip of the native's length.

A delighted shudder ran through Krerah's entire body and he moaned, hips lifting in silent pleading. Irvine didn't make him plead too hard, taking him into his mouth and humming gently so that the native arched and moaned throatily.

"Irvine…" Krerah sighed. "/I-Irvine… move…/"

"Hmm…?" Irvine wondered, lifting his head in confusion.

"/T-turn…/" Krerah murmured. "/Turn so I can…/" He trailed off, running his tongue along his lips and Irvine grinned.

"Ah," was all he said, then did as he was told. Each moaned as the other's mouth closed over his length and Irvine lowered his weight onto his elbows, afraid his entire arms' length wouldn't hold him up.

It had been a while since the last time he'd… at least, compared to his usual activities since Zell had stolen him away, so Irvine didn't last long. Krerah rode the buck of his hips easily as the cowboy arched, throwing his head back and giving a cry.

Krerah was, all things considered, fairly patient, giving him time to come back to himself before dark hands brushed at his legs in silent begging. Irvine couldn't help but give a soft laugh and he lowered his head again, taking Krerah's length to pay it the attention it deserved. His well-honed skills soon brought the native to completion with a breathless, aching cry and Irvine was only to glad to shift again and flop down beside Krerah.

"/Now…/" Krerah said after a long while. "/Tell me you have not wanted to do that since the moment you met me!/"

Irvine laughed, shaking his head in amusement at the arrogance that seemed to be a part of all the natives' genetic make up.

"/Oh, yes, Krerah!/" Irvine said dramatically. "/I _have_ wanted to do that since the moment I met you!/"

They both laughed, then curled close and fell asleep in a happy tangle, both far more relaxed than they had been since Zell and Ahshey left.

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: So been waiting to write that scene with Irvine and Krerah! XD Love this chapter _so_ much! Woot! Rinoa got dumped!


	20. Discovered

Warnings: Sex! Drugs! Lies! Video tape! Well… maybe not. But if you're still reading at chapter twenty, you don't care what I put here anyway.

Pairings: Kiros needs to get laid…

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the FF8 characters… well, I kinda do because I have Kiros figurine… snuggles it But aside from that, I don't. But I do own what's mine and believe me, with this fic, I'd know if you took it! DX So don't.

Author's Notes: I realised it's been over a month since I last updated. -- I'm so slack with this, aren't I? Lucky for me you all keep checking for updates! XD I love you all, really! And so does Native-Zell!

NZ: glares

Yeah, he's just pissed off because you all get to see his Irvy naked too. XD

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Twenty – Discovered._

Zell growled under his breath, three heartbeats, at the outside, away from killing one of the takers behind him. He could tell by the lines of Ahshey's body that he was feeling much the same. They were, all of them, men who only took women and as a result, they were all irritated and squabbling due to the tensions built up within them.

"/Remind me,/" Zell growled. "/Never to go on extended hunting trips with only male takers of women again…/"

Ahshey growled his agreement right back.

They, evidently, had no such tension built up. Of course, they both missed their taken, and the pleasure of each other's company couldn't make up for that, but it was better by far than going without entirely. It had been a long time since Zell could stand to go without entirely for any length of time. His restraint with Irvine had been a stretch as it was.

Ah! Irvine…

Zell smirked. He had many a plan for the elegant cowboy before the day was out. He _would_ writhe and sob and beg before Zell was done.

A dark hand waved before his eyes and he blinked, turning his eyes to Ahshey, who was grinning devilishly.

"/I know what you think of, brother…/" he said in a low, sing-song voice.

"/Aye, and tell me you do not think the same!/" Zell retorted.

"/Can you blame me? Such a beautiful, willing taken waits for me that I couldn't help but imagine what I'll do to him now I'm home./"

"/In that case, can _you_ blame _me_?/" Zell wondered.

"/No, indeed. I would make your taken _whine_ were I given the chance…/"

"/You never will be,/" Zell said, chuckling. "/Only I shall ever take my cowboy…/"

"/Likewise, you shall never take Krerah!/"

"/Keep your bird in a straight line!/" came a snap from behind them, and Zell growled. He was about to turn on his chocobo's back and kill someone, but they broke cover and Ahshey made a sound of relief as the teepis came into sight.

"/Home…/" the native sighed and Zell grinned fiercely at him.

"/Taken!/" one of the men behind them cried, and their birds were suddenly thundering past Ahshey and Zell's.

Zell grinned again and kicked Shir'nis into a trot, licking his lips as they skirted around the edge of the camp to take their chocobos back to the flock. Ah! How his taken must have missed him. He was surprised, in fact, that neither Irvine or Krerah seemed to have responded to the cry going up of their return. Perhaps they were out gathering…

He hoped not.

When he and Ahshey had returned their chocobos to the flock and taken their kills to the storehouse, they headed for their teepis. They reached Ahshey's first and, after a quick hug, parted. Zell was making his way across camp, fingers flexing at the mere thought of the things he was going to do to Irvine, when Ahshey called his name, and came dashing over.

"/My taken is not there,/" he said simply and Zell laughed.

"/You think he's likely with mine?/"

"/I don't doubt it!/"

They both laughed and Ahshey threw an arm around Zell's shoulders as they swaggered arrogantly across the camp, broad-shouldered, well-muscled, strong-legged and exuding an almost animal sense of sexuality. They were watched as they passed, and they _knew_ they were watched. After all, it was only what was due them.

Zell paused at the entrance to his teepi, licking his lower lip and savouring the anticipation while Ahshey rolled his eyes, arms folded and making a great show of impatience. Finally, Zell grinned and threw open the flap, ducking inside.

"/Irvine! Your taker- oh…/"

Ahshey stuck his head in to see what had halted Zell's dramatic entrance and a smirk curved his full lips.

"/My, my…/" he purred.

"Z-Zell!" Irvine squeaked, struggling to catch his breath, while between his legs, Krerah rested on his elbows, head lifted to look at the pair who'd entered. At the look on Ahshey's face, he smirked and stroked his tongue over the tip of Irvine's length, making the cowboy shudder and arch, head dropping back to the furs.

"/Welcome home…/" he murmured silkily.

"/I see you've kept yourself busy…/" Ahshey remarked.

"/I was only keeping your brother's taken from dying of tension…/" Krerah replied easily.

"/Oh, so it was entirely selfless…?/" Zell put in, a smirk tugging at his lips. To come home to the sight of Irvine so desperately needy was definitely a treat.

"/Well… not _entirely_… He does have such a pretty mouth… I commend you, taker. His tongue is well-taught./"

Zell preened. Ahshey rolled his eyes and shoved the other taker out of the way, walking over to curl his fingers around Krerah's chin and guide him to his feet. Irvine whimpered and Zell's smirk grew as Ahshey wrapped a commanding hand around Krerah's length.

"/Time to go home,/" the taker growled and Krerah's eyes slid shut, a shiver running down his body.

"/Yes, my taker…/"

Ahshey grinned and scooped Krerah into his arms, walking out of the teepi with his taken licking at his neck.

They were almost instantly gone from Zell's mind. He had better things to worry about…

Irvine shifted a little when Zell's weight came atop him and a smile curved his lips, a long-fingered hand slipping into the native's hair. Then his eyes opened and Zell's stomach dropped all over again as he fell into their perfect blue.

"/Missed you…/" Irvine whispered, then the smile fell and his voice grew stuttery. "/I-I hope you're… you're not mad. I-I wasn't… going to… to d-do anything… It was Krerah he said… it would be alright and I-/"

- - - - - - -

Zell cut him off with a fierce kiss, tongue plunging deep into his mouth in a way Krerah's never had. He shuddered, eyes falling shut again as the native tasted all of him, making it clear that it didn't matter what he'd done with Krerah. Zell was his taker, and nothing could compare to that.

"/He would never dare take you…/" Zell murmured when he drew back from the kiss. Irvine melted at the stroke of his taker's fingers through his hair. "/And I would never dare expect you to remain without touch for so long, when I can't. But nor did I take Ahshey, or he me. Nevertheless, it's difficult to pay attention to anything else when all you can think about is how much you miss your lover…/"

Irvine made an agreeable sound, and was only too glad to let Zell remove all trace of Krerah from his body.

- - - - - - -

"Squall, would you _please_ just go to Madam Quistis and _pay_ some woman to let you fuck her?!"

Squall looked up from the fly he was dismembering, blinking at Seifer.

"Wh-"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me! You've been fucking unbearable for the last _three weeks_! I bet you haven't slept with anyone since you gave Rinoa the boot. Mind you, if it were me, I would have been in another bed as soon as possible…"

Squall snorted theatrically and shook his head, turning his attention back to the fly.

"How do you know I haven't?"

It was Seifer's turn to snort as he put his feet against the edge of his desk and rocked his chair back onto two legs, lacing his fingers together behind his blonde head. He eyed Squall, but as usual, the Deputy's expression remained infuriatingly still.

"Because you're taking apart a fly that's still alive, you snap at me more than usual and you actually hit Dot with the whip yesterday."

Squall's clear blue eyes snapped up to the calm green regarding him, widening slightly and Seifer was just pleased he'd finally manage to at least crack the expressionless façade.

"What?"

"Please. You don't think she squealed like that just from fear, do you? I checked her after you came inside. She's got a lash mark behind her right wing. Some feathers are even missing. You caught her a good one."

Though it wasn't considered at all wrong to go about lashing chocobos to wring speed from them, Seifer knew he and his Deputy agreed it wasn't necessary, as it only ended up wearing out the bird faster. Both their birds were Eli Kinneas thoroughbreds, hatched specifically for the rough terrain the town was situated in the middle of, and they knew if Eli didn't make a habit of keeping the town Sheriff and Deputy on chocobo back, they never would have had the gil or anything even near equivalent to the price of the birds to trade. But even had they been the most inexpensive, ugly nags in creation, neither was in the habit of actually making contact with the whip.

"Is she alright?" Squall asked.

"She's fine. I put a little ointment on it. I'm more worried about you. I can't have you so volatile I have to worry about your behaviour as well as whatever we're trying to deal with."

"Right, because there's so much to _deal with_ in this gods-forsaken town…"

"See what I mean? Total bitch…"

"Fuck you…"

Seifer snickered.

"You know I'd love to, but you keep saying I ain't your type."

Squall glared at him and opened his mouth to speak, but there was the sound of a chocobo's feet in the dust outside the jail and he closed it again.

"Sheriff! _Sheriff_!"

The cry was hysterical enough to draw both their eyes and they left the poor fly twitching its way to death to go and find out what the commotion was.

- - - - - - -

Seifer crouched lower in the bushes, eyeing the creature that was snacking on no less than _four_ cockatrice carcasses. It was young, so it was small, for a Malbora. It was still taller than Seifer. Easily. He slowly cocked his rifle. The little bastard had been picking off sheep and cattle for four months now, ever since the sudden and hysterical arrival of a local farmer at the jailhouse. That day, it had picked off his son. Since, no people had died, but no people were willing to leave their houses unless they had to either.

No one knew why it had moved out of usual Malbora territory, but Seifer had a theory it had been chased off. Probably the runt of a spawn. It was likely amazing it had even survived, but Seifer had no intention of letting its lucky streak continue. The Sheriff lifted the rifle, sighting along the barrel and slipping his finger against the trigger in preparation to fire.

There was a cry and he twitched, looking up in time to see three feathered arrows thunk one after the other into the Malbora's soft belly area. It roared and three more went into its wide mouth, the roar morphed into a low, keening sound, then the creature fell to the side and thrashed.

Two savages broke cover, leaping nimbly up onto the thrashing beast to thrust two very long serrated knives each straight through the top of its head. They held them there, freakishly sure-footed on the spiked surface, until the Malbora lay still.

Seifer blinked and blinked again, certain he had to be seeing things. One of the savages had typical chocolate skin and long black hair, but the other was pale. And his hair was auburn.

They slowly released the knives, then straightened and grinned at one another before leaping to the ground and throwing their arms around one another, laughing and dancing.

There was no mistaking it. One of the tattooed, feathered-haired, loin-cloth-wearing savages was none other than Irvine Kinneas.

- - - - - - -

"/Our takers are going to _kill_ us!/" Krerah cried against Irvine's ear, laughing madly.

"/Oh, they'll get over it. Who says they should have all the fun? Anyway, we're lucky the _Malbora_ didn't kill us. Your draw is getting slower, my brother! One arrow in the space of my two?! Taken living is making you soft!/"

"/It is of no use to shoot off two arrows if neither strikes true,/" Krerah said sedately, then planted his bare foot against the Malbora's head, clamped both hands around a knife handle, and strained to pull out the weapon, grunting as the serrations pulled free with a wet sucking sound.

Irvine went to help him, and when they'd freed all four knives, they took out sharper carving ones and began to harvest what was edible, putting it all in oiled mesmerize-skin bags, When they were done with the meat, Irvine lit a torch and held it inside the massive mouth, his head and shoulders almost disappearing. Krerah leaned in beside him, reaching right to the back of the mouth to harvest the poison-sacks.

When they retreated with the sacks Krerah pierced one gently and let it drip on a leaf, then resealed the hole with a stronger form of Zell's gel. The poison on the leaf hissed and after several moments, it started to eat away the leaf.

"/Not fully potent…/" Krerah mused, packing the sacks in a thick hexadragon-skin bag.

"/I'm sure someone will find some use for it, even if it won't kill instantly,/" Irvine replied. He turned, intending to call Whipcrack,then stilled, eyes going wide.

Seifer had stepped out of the bushes.

They stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity.

"Irvine…?" Seifer said in disbelief and Krerah whirled at the sound of his voice.

"Seifer…" Irvine said in much the same tone. Then Krerah grabbed his arm and he twitched, looking back to the native.

"/Irvine,/" he said, obviously terrified. "/Come! He'll kill us!/"

Irvine started to protest, but then he realised he couldn't. It was unlikely Seifer would kill _him_, but the sheriff likely thought he was being held captive and wouldn't hesitate to shoot Krerah. They both turned and ran, whistling for their chocobos.

Whipcrack and Cedarii (1) drew up alongside their masters, keeping pace with them easily, and they offered their wings. The men easily vaulted onto the backs of their birds, bending low over their necks and letting them have their heads. The chocobos sped off through the trees.

- - - - - - -

Seifer stared at the place they'd disappeared from almost too long before he ran to where Knightly was tethered, untied him and leapt into the saddle, kicking the bird into a run almost in the same movement. Knightly soon found the other chocobos' scent and followed it at a flat-out run.

- - - - - - -

(1) I had the crappiest name for Krerah's chocobo in the handwritten version of this that I'd been working on, and I was typing it up at nearly one in the morning. I spoke to Misty and said "I need a name for a chocobo…" she replies with "Obocohc." Who knew that "chocobo" backward was "oboe-cock"…? giggles madly

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Ack! What's going to happen?! O.o o.O Well, I have a bit more hand-written, but it's getting close to where I don't have anything! …I really better start writing some more of this… ' Anyway! If I don't update again before, have a great Christmas! I'll try to do a one-shot for Christmas, but I'm working on some actual Christmas present ficcies for people, so they're the highest priority. Anyway! I say again, hope you have a great Christmas, and that Santa brings you everything you ask for! If you feel like giving _me_ gifts, just e-mail me and I'll send you my details. ;) Be safe! Don't drink and drive! Make sure you have plenty of rest before traveling, especially if you're driving yourself! waves Baibai!


	21. Won

Warnings: GACKT IS LOVE! Wait… that's not a warning. Oo, there's violence in this chapter:O Enjoy it! XD

Pairings: Kiros still needs to get laid.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that's not mine. And unfortunately, no one pays me to write this stuff.

Author's Notes: Oh no! I've run out of hand-written stuff. That means I have to actually write on the computer now with this fic. Heh. It's coming to an end anyway. I know what's going to happen, I just have to write it… Ner…

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Twenty-One – Won._

"/We can't lose him! He's too close!/" Krerah lamented as they wove their way through the trees, Seifer close on their heels.

"/We have to keep him away from camp,/" Irvine replied grimly, knowing how Kiros would react if he lead an Outsider back to their teepis. He touched Whipcrack, but the bird was panicking and refused to acknowledge him. He saw Krerah was having the same problems.

"/They smell gunpowder and leather. They're afraid!/" Irvine called. "/Whipcrack, stop! Turn away!/" Whipcrack ignored him for the first time in a very long time and they soon pelted into camp and right through it to where the flock ranged. Only then did the chocobos slow and stop, panting with their heads hanging low. Irvine and Krerah pushed their way out of the group in time to see Seifer drag on Knightly's mouth and skid to a halt.

Kiros exited his teepi, took in the situation and instantly demanded; "/Get him off his chocobo and bring him to me!/"

But Seifer had un-holstered his gun and was brandishing it.

"/Stop!/" Irvine screamed at the approaching braves. "/He'll kill them, Kiros!/"

Kiros leveled a vicious glare at Irvine and signaled his braves. They surrounded Seifer and Knightly, but didn't move too close. Kiros strode over to Irvine and back handed him.

"/You brought this upon us!/" he snarled, and lifted a hand to strike again.

"/No, Kiros! He can't be blamed for this! We took down the Malbora-/" Krerah tried to argue.

"/A task assigned to your takers!/" Kiros snarled, venting his anger by giving Irvine a shove. "/Where are _they_?!/" (1)

"/It's not _their_ fault either,/" Irvine growled. "/We left when they slept./"

"/Yes, you did,/" Zell's voice now growled from behind him. "/And I am _not_ pleased…/"

"/Nor I,/" added Ahshey as they Irvine and Krerah turned. Both takers stood with their arms crossed over broad chests, and Ahshey continued; "/You are a bad influence, Irvine…/" He sounded grim, but Irvine was certain a smirk hovered about his lips.

"/You, I will deal with later…/" Zell muttered to Irvine, then glanced to Kiros. "/The Outsider is mine. He pursues my taken still, after even so long. I have a right to him!/"

Kiros grumbled, but the gathered natives were murmuring their agreement, and he knew he could not say no.

"/Have him, then…/" the chief muttered, and disappeared back into his teepi, washing his hands completely of the matter.

"/Come with me, Irvine,/" Zell demanded and strode through the milling natives towards where Seifer sat his chocobo, gun still in hand. "/Tell him what I say./"

Irvine nodded as they approached Seifer.

"/Put down your gun, Landstealer!/" Zell demanded.

"He asks you to put your gun away," Irvine relayed, absently tugging at the loincloth that barely covered him. He felt suddenly shy in the face of Seifer's head-to-toe clothing, and the signs of the civilisation he had left.

"How do I know I won't be killed?" the Sheriff wondered, finger twitching against the trigger when one of the natives shifted his feet.

Irvine related this back to Zell who curled his lip and scoffed.

"/We have more honor than this,/" he said.

Seifer looked between Irvine and Zell, evidently trying to read into their relationship, and what it consisted off. Irvine wondered if he could tell – if he had possibly noticed the matching symbols on their shoulders.

"He says they got more honor than that. They ain't gonna harm you. He swears it."

"And I'm supposed to trust _him_?"

"You ain't got no choice. There're a hundred or more arrows pointed at your throat…"

Seifer growled, but he put up his gun.

"/Good. Tell him you're mine and he has no right to pursue you./"

"Sheriff, Zell says you have no ri-"

"/Ah! And I've already beaten him once…/"

"He says you got no right to come after me because I belong to him and he already beat you once."

"Tell him to get _fucked_. I'm taking you home."

Irvine winced, and paraphrased.

"/He says he's taking me home…/"

Zell bared his teeth, glaring viciously at Seifer.

"/You _are_ home!/"

"I _am_ home…"

"/And if he doesn't leave in the next ten heartbeats, he won't leave alive./"

"And if you don't leave in the next ten heartbeats, you won't leave alive."

"Some honor," Seifer growled, watching Irvine translate.

Zell remained silent and the cowboy counted heartbeats, though he was certain his was beating at least twice as fast as his taker's.

- - - - - - -

The man stood his ground for which Zell had some grudging admiration, though he'd never admit it. At the tenth heartbeat, he smirked at the Outsider on his chocobo.

"/Very well,/" he said, Irvine translating rapidly. "/I've the right to kill you here and now for pursuing a taken whom you already lost one fight for and, moreso, for pursuing a Marked taken. However, since you are, afterall, an Outsider and not trained in _civilized_ behaviour,/" The natives all snickered around them. "/I will be lenient and give you the chance to defend yourself./"

The Outsider curled his lip and his chocobo danced on the spot, showing the nervousness and tension his rider refused to let cross his face.

"/Come down from your bird and face me weaponless, like a true Warrior. If you win, you may kill me and take Irvine. If I win, I may kill you and keep him./"

Irvine's eyes went wide and he shook his head at Zell.

"/No!/" he cried, while the Outsider looked on in confusion, not having got a translation of anything beyond 'if you win'.

"Irvine!" Zell barked. "/Know your place and do not argue with me! Tell him the last of what I said!/"

"He said…" Irvine started, then trailed off.

Zell could understand his taken's worry. But he wasn't worried at all. He knew the Outsider would never best him, so what cause was there to worry for his death? Irvine would not lose his taker. Of that, Zell was certain.

"/Tell him!/" he ordered, briefly showing Irvine his teeth – something that he hadn't been forced to do for some time.

"He says… if you win… you can kill him and… take me, but if he wins… then he can kill you and keep me…" Irvine said haltingly, rubbing nervously at his own hip.

The Outsider growled something about not being able to _keep_ people because they weren't _owned_, but he swung off his chocobo.

"/Very good,/" Zell said as his people moved back and someone took Knightly. A murmur went around the gathering, an almost carnival like atmosphere beginning to grow, and Zell could hear them placing wagers. Most of the crowd favoured him.

The Outsider took off his hat and jacket, displaying muscled arms and a sleeveless shirt that clung to his chest. One or two taken gave approving exclamations.

Someone came forward with a brightly painted, feathered stick and Zell spoke over it in the lost tongue.

"/Now,/" he said, nodding to Irvine to translate. "/As our fathers have always done, here I show the Deciding Space./" And he walked a large circle within those gathered around, gouging a deep line with the stick. He gave it back when he was done and faced Seifer. "/Here are the guidelines, as you don't know them. You mustn't step out of the circle, or you forfeit and I win. No weapons. Nothing is prohibited save attacking of the groin and eyes. To win, you must either gain a hold that I can't break, send me out of the circle, knock me unconscious or outright kill me./"

Seifer nodded shortly.

- - - - - - -

He realised, suddenly, that his clothing provided the savage with extra hand-holds, and wasted no time in stripping to his smallclothes. (2) He was fairly certain he didn't imagine the giggles and low whistles of appreciation he received, but he largely ignored them. One of the savages called something to Zell who smirked, tossing his head a little before he crouched low, hands upraised.

The man with the painted stick struck the ground between them and Seifer didn't need to understand them to know he cried "begin!" before retreating outside the circle.

The savage he now faced gave him a cock-sure little smirk that made his blood boil, then barked what could only be "translate" at Irvine.

"/You were beaten once, yet you come back for _more_? This time I will _not_ spare your life!/"

"You won't get the chance to spare it or otherwise, _savage_," Seifer replied with a snarl, watching Irvine to make sure he translated. "_I'm_ going to kill _you_!"

"/Your arrogance will once again be your downfall, Landstealer,/" the savage growled and struck at Seifer. His speed shocked the breath from Seifer in a figurative sense while a broad shoulder drove it from him in a more literal sense, cannoning into his abdomen with amazing power. They both hit the ground from the force, Seifer beneath the savage who smirked and buried his teeth in Seifer's shoulder. The Sheriff howled and pushed Zell bodily off him, rolling to stand. The other man wiped blood from his mouth as he stood, still smirking.

"/You will die here…/" Zell said with conviction. The translation was delivered in a far more wavering tone.

Seifer was shocked. When the savage had said _anything_ was allowed, he hadn't thought that would extend to something as dirty as biting. He watched his opponent, trying to regain his breath, and made out as though he couldn't. Zell flew at him again, but this time Seifer was ready. He put out a leg as he stepped to the side and Zell yelped as he crashed to the ground.

Seifer leapt on his back and got him in a headlock, tightening his grip until the savage was choking and then still further.

"_Who_ will die here?" he hissed. Zell went limp, still, and Irvine cried out. He made as if to move, but the savage Seifer had first seen him with in the forest restrained him. The sheriff loosened his hold and gave a shocked cry as the man he thought had died exploded beneath him, throwing him off with ridiculous ease.

"/You are too sure of yourself, as I said. Your arrogance is your failing,/" Zell growled as he stood over Seifer, a foot pressed to his chest.

- - - - - - -

But, Zell reflected in the next five seconds, so was his own on rare occasions, this being one of them. Seifer's hands came around his ankle and jerked, not enough to pitch him off his feet, but enough to send him staggering forward over the Outsider's head. He whirled and they faced each other again.

His gaze briefly caught on Irvine, who stood with Krerah's arms around his shoulders, his own arms bent at the elbows as he gripped the native's wrists, pale and scared. _At least_, he thought, _if by some exceptionally unlikely chance I lose, Krerah and Ahshey will take him into their furs._ In the next heartbeat, he realised that wasn't the case, because he had given the Outsider permission to take Irvine away. That thought galvanized him. He _would_ not leave _his_ taken to return with the Outsider!

Seifer came at him again, and he didn't waste time. A hand flashed out, grabbing the man's throat and Zell used his considerable strength to drive him into the ground. He straddled the Outsider and grimly wrapped his hands around his throat, pressing thumbs to his windpipe.

"Mine…" he snarled as Seifer's hands scrabbled uselessly at his own. "_Mine_."

A hush had fallen over the camp, but it was suddenly broken.

"Zell!"

Irvine broke free of Krerah's arms, ignoring the man's cry, and entered the circle to the collective gasp of the gathered natives.

"/Zell, please!/" his taken begged, falling to his knees before Zell.

"/You cannot interfere!/" Zell exclaimed, mortified by his taken's blatant disregard for the Old Law. "/Leave the Deciding Space!/"

Irvine shook his head, further displeasing his taker.

"/_Now_!/" he demanded, grip loosening slightly.

"/Zell…/" Irvine whispered, and Zell how hard it was for him now to disobey. "/Please… please, don't kill him…/"

"/It is my _right_! He pursues you, tries to take from me what is _mine_, when he has already been warned, and beaten!/"

"/I know!/" Irvine cried. "/I know, my taker, but he… he's here because of _me_. It's _my_ fault. He doesn't – _can't_ understand that you… you love me and I love you and you take care of me. He thinks I'm held captive! Zell… you would do the same if you believed I were somewhere against my will./"

Zell stared at his taken, his beautiful, _perfect_ taken and his heart cried out at the desperation in the sky-blue eyes. _Please_… they begged. _Please don't kill him. He's something of home…_ And the native _knew_.

"/I think you are here against your will…/" he murmured and he stood, leaving Seifer gasping for breath. Irvine scrabbled to his feet and went after Zell who barked orders that Seifer be fed and rested, but kept guarded at all times.

"/Zell!/" Irvine said when they reached the native's teepi; "/Zell, I'm not-/"

But Zell didn't let him finish instead claiming his mouth for a fierce kiss that made the cowboy's knees literally go weak. He knew, now, what was best for his taken…

"/Irvine…/" he murmured as he lay his cowboy down. Irvine's fingertips sought out newly-formed bruises and he made a soft sound of apology when Zell hissed in slight pain. But the native only pressed kisses to his throat and removed both their loincloths, pressing against Irvine.

"/Zell… I'm s-/"

"/Shh…/" Zell blinked back tears as he kissed a tender trail down to Irvine's navel, worshipping his taken as taken should be worshipped. Irvine relaxed beneath him, giving a happy sigh then gasped when his taker's mouth traveled up to catch a gold-hooped nipple. His cowboy's hand came to his hair and a soft moan issued from that elegant mouth.

"Mmm…" Irvine arched into Zell's mouth and the fingertips that came to the other nipple. A shiver danced just below his skin to leap out in a twitch or shift of his body every so often when Zell's other roaming hand touched the right spots.

"/I love you…/" Zell whispered firmly, now stretching out atop Irvine and burying his fingers in auburn hair.

Ai! He _was_ beautiful. The way his hands curled around Zell's waist was just perfect. He made the perfect noises, moved the perfect ways, smiled the perfect smiles. Ah, yes. He was everything Zell had always wanted, and more…

"/Zell, what's wrong…?/" Irvine asked as the native stroked and touched everywhere with a reverence that stunned them both.

"/Nothing…/" Zell lied. "/Relax…/"

"/But you… you see-eem… oh…/"

Zell had wrapped a hand around Irvine's length and was stroking, preventing the cowboy from considering at all how he seemed.

He made love to Irvine several times that night, even going so far as to wake him from sleep to do so. Irvine complained and grumbled, but it never took the native long to stir his passions. He kept asking what was wrong, but Zell would tell him to sleep and he was so exhausted, he didn't argue.

Zell didn't sleep at all, but spent the entire night watching Irvine sleep – when he wasn't loving him. He knew what had to be done, but that didn't mean he liked it.

- - - - - - -

(1) Kiros is really mean in this fic… -tears- I'm sorry Kiros. I luffles you!

(2) -dies- Funniest word ever.

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Ooo… what's gonna happen?!


	22. Mine

Warnings: Angst and fluff. Language probably, sex definitely.

Pairings: Stuff.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Unfortunately, I don't _actually_ own Irvine. Or anyone else.

Author's Notes: TADAH! This is the last chapter, kiddies. I know it's taken a long time, but it's a long chapter too, to make up for it. It just didn't leave itself open to being cut, and I didn't want to. So here it is, the end of "Mine". Now it's time to get to work on all those unfinished ficlets…

_**Mine.**_

_KittyMeowMaxwell._

_Chapter Twenty-Two – Mine._

Seifer was woken from a fitful doze early the next morning, drowsy and unkempt. They prodded him on the ends of spears out of the bare teepi they'd kept him in and he blinked in the early-morning light, yawning hugely.

Irvine was crying when the sheriff laid eyes on him and the stocky savage he'd fought was largely ignoring what appeared to be desperate pleas from the cowboy. His face was stony.

"Irvine…" the savage said after a long moment, glancing at the sobbing man. He repeated the name more firmly and Irvine looked up, apparently unable to ignore the summons. The savage said one word, then looked at Seifer and spoke, Irvine translating through his tears.

"/You lost to me, but I realise now you have won where it matters. Irvine desires his home and his people. Thus he will return with you. I release him from the Marking-" A long gasp and eddying murmurs rippled around. "-And sever him from all oaths and promises sworn me./"

Seifer stared, utterly dumbfounded and Irvine dissolved into more desperate sobs. The slender savage Seifer remembered from the day before stroked the cowboy's hair and drew him into a hug, but Irvine only cried harder.

The one who'd spoken wouldn't look at Irvine and his jaw remained set, his posture rigid. Another dark-skinned savage approached him and unreadable eyes slid to him.

- - - - - - -

"/Why do you do this?!/" Ahshey hissed at Zell, making a violent gesture. "/_Why_? Your taken cries for your attention, he cries for your _love_, and yet you remain thus?/"

Zell looked away, a muscle working in his jaw. Didn't Ahshey _understand_ how hard this was for him? How difficult to listen to his beautiful cowboy cry and do nothing? How gut-wrenchingly agonizing to hand what belonged to him in every way to the Outsider? Couldn't his brother _see_?

"/I know what I do, Ahshey…/"

"/You _don't_! You have completely lost your mind! Go to your taken and send this Outsider on his way!/"

"/No./"

"/But-/"

"/_No_! I said no!/" Zell snarled, baring his teeth. Ahshey looked at him, totally bemused, then with a final glare, he turned and stalked off.

It was hard. It was _so_ hard to stay calm, to keep his emotions in check. His heart throbbed painfully and he still hungered for Irvine, despite the myriad times he'd taken him throughout the night.

The Outsider stood to the side, looking confused, and well he may be.

When Zell went to Irvine it took some moments before Krerah would let him go, despite the taker's thunderous looks, but let go he eventually did. However, Irvine would not. He clung to Krerah with a fierceness that made Zell want to cry.

_Irvine…_

"/Irvine, let go!/" he eventually growled with enough force that the cowboy's automatic reactions kicked in and he couldn't disobey. He let go of Krerah, the other taken giving a wail and turning into Ahshey's waiting arms.

"/Please, Ahshey!/" he cried with a taken's belief that his taker could do anything. "/Ahshey, make him stop!/" Zell saw the pain in Ahshey's eyes at knowing that, for once, he could not soothe his lover's anguish. He could only thread his fingers through Krerah's silky hair and he remained silent.

"/Take him,/" Zell growled, voice rough and though the Outsider couldn't understand the words, Zell knew the man would know what he meant as he pressed Irvine towards him.

"Seifer, I can't go with you," Irvine said instantly, turning back to Zell who now stared at the ground, physically forcing himself not to say or do anything that would encourage the cowboy – _his cowboy_ – to stay.

"/Zell, please… Please, I don't know what I did wrong!/"

Ai! Could he not see how difficult this was already? Every word, every moment longer made it a hundred times worse again! And it was his _duty_ to kiss away those tears and soothe that trembling, but he _couldn't_!

_Oh, Irvine…_

"/Go, Irvine. Go home to your people. I see now that you cannot remain here. Go with him./"

"/No…/" Irvine whispered, and he fell to his knees at Zell's feet, head bowed and hands folded in his lap, the picture of submissiveness. "/Zell, my lover… my taker… Whatever I did you anger you, to upset you, to… make you send me from you… Please… _please_,/" His voice broke on the repetition. "/Let me have the chance to make up for it. Don't make me go…/"

Zell's throat tightened, his heart pounding, but he took Irvine's chin in his hand and he lifted that beautiful head, thumbing away the tears. He _belonged_ to Zell, it was his _right_ to keep him, but the native knew he couldn't. Ai! He _could not_!

"/Your place is not here,/" he said with all the cold finality he could muster and he turned away. "/Go with the man…/"

- - - - - - -

Irvine's heart broke at those words. It was Zell who had _made_ this his place. If the native no longer thought it was so, then what point was there to staying?

He gave a long, low whistle and Whipcrack trotted up, Shir'nis at his heels. Zell laid a hand on the pie-bald chocobo's neck and she warbled softly as Irvine mounted.

"Ready…?" Seifer wondered warily, obviously confused by everything going on around him.

Irvine nodded mutely, making no move to stay the tears which rolled down his cheeks.

"/Farewell, Krerah, my brother… Farewell, Ahshey…/" Irvine whispered. His eyes turned to Zell who stared doggedly at the ground. "/I love you, my taker…/" he said with all the feeling he possessed. He saw Zell tense, but there was no other reaction.

Seifer clucked his tongue at his mount and they moved off.

"/Remember us!/" Krerah called after him in a choked voice and Irvine bowed his head as the native gave a long, wailing cry of mourning. Much of the encampment took it up and the tears ran more swiftly down Irvine's face.

He wanted to turn back, but there was no place for him anymore if Zell didn't want him. Whipcrack warbled unhappily, but he was well-trained these days and he followed in Knightly's wake as Irvine dictated, while the man on his back fairly sobbed.

- - - - - - -

"/Why?!/" Ahshey demanded the moment they were alone. "/Why would you send him away? _Why_?! And to break the Old Law so! To sever the bonds of your Marking so easily, and without even consulting the HeartSeer! Zell, what's in your head? What causes this ill-advised behaviour? Why do you do this?/"

Zell had fallen to his knees on the sleeping-furs he so recently shared with Irvine, clutching desperately at them. Tears pooled in his eyes, then spilled over and streamed down his cheeks in two shining rivulets. Of course he didn't _want_ to let his cowboy go. Of _course_ he didn't! Couldn't Ahshey _see_ that…?

It was Krerah who approached and saw the tears while Ahshey remained well behind Zell, still telling him off. The taken lowered himself to his knees as well and reached out, touching Zell's face. What little control Zell still possessed failed him and he fell upon Krerah, clutching at him and sobbing into his chest with gut-wrenching, throaty cries of utter pain and misery.

Krerah was surprised for only a heartbeat before he wrapped an arm around the broad shoulders, his other hand going into Zell's hair. His eyes fell shut as he pressed his lips gently to the taker's hair, whispering soothing nonsense.

Ahshey stared. He opened his mouth to speak, but a look from Krerah stilled his voice.

Oh, it hurt. Nothing in all his life had ever hurt like this. He had known he loved Irvine. Had always known it, but he had never realised being so parted now would be so very painful. And it was. Ah! It _was_.

He didn't even realise the native had moved, but Ahshey was suddenly at his back, arms around his waist as he offered yet more comfort. Not until the sobs had faded did the question come again.

"/Why, Zell? Just tell us why you would do this…/" Ahshey persisted, though far more gently.

"/He longs for his home,/" Zell said tiredly, struggling his pain into some sort of submission as Jirrah approached and draped himself across a knee. "/You didn't see the look on his face when I would have done away with the Outsider. I… I believed I had pressed all thought of… his past life from his mind, but I had not. Sooner or later, he would have asked to return…/ He trailed off, rubbing his eyes. "/I could not keep him here when he longed so to return with the Outsider, even if he didn't know it himself. He would have slowly come to hate me, and I… I could bare that even less than letting him go…/"

"/Oh, my brother… My little brother,/" Ahshey murmured. "/I am sorry for those things I said to you. You act in the best interests of your taken, always./"

Zell nodded mutely and Jirrah cooed.

"/But he wished to stay…/" Krerah put forward timidly, fingers stroking through Zell's short hair.

"/For now he did, but not forever,/" Zell replied miserably. "/But I will love him forever…/"

- - - - - - -

"Oh, my! Ladies, you _gotta_ come see this…"

It was the 'seamstresses' afternoon off, so they all hurried to the window at Penelope's soft exclamation, including the Madam.

"Hyne…" Quistis breathed as her eyes settled upon what was so interesting – a tall, slender young man who sat a chocobo behind the Sheriff. He was well-muscled, as they could all tell, owing to the fact that he was clothed only in a scrap of Torama skin and three black tattoos. There was a feather in his hair as well.

"His _nipples_ are pierced!" one of the girls almost squealed. "_Both_ of them!"

"He must be a _savage_," Luanne hissed, giggling into her hand at the thought.

"He can't be!" Drucilla shot back with an arrogant tone. "His hair is _red_ and his skin is _fair_."

"He's _dressed_ like one."

"So? Ain't you never heard've costumes?!"

"'Course I have! You callin' me stupid?"

"Well, if the boot fits…"

"I ain't stupid! Bitch!"

"Cow!"

"Dog!"

"Whore!"

"Hey, now! That's-"

"_Girls_!" Quistis broke in before their name-calling could escalate. "I think that could be the Kinneas boy."

"Oh, right!" Trixie cried. "They said he got stole by savages. He must've been living with them."

"I call him! I saw him first," Penelope said suddenly. That caused a whole new set of arguments and squabbling.

Quistis let their waspish words wash over her, watching as the sheriff lead the other man through town. Her elegant brows lowered, blue eyes narrowing behind clear glasses and she hmm'd in thought.

"Very, very interesting…" she whispered.

- - - - - - -

Leanne Kinneas was, relatively speaking, a calm woman. She took everything in her stride, the perfect rancher's wife. She had barely even batted an eyelid the day the chocobos broke down the fence and feasted upon her vegetables and flowers. "Oh well," she'd said. "guess the critters needed a bit of variety." And she had stood patiently and supportively by the fence the year there was no rain, and Eli had been forced to shoot half the birds.

When, however, she left her house to see why her husband was whooping and hollering when little more than mumbles had come from either of them since Irvine's disappearance, all that failed her. At first, she didn't recognize him, then she couldn't believe it. In the next moment, she went fying down the stairs and across the dusty yard, throwing herself at her son before he was even off his chocobo properly. Whipcrack staggered and skittered away a couple of steps and Irvine tripped over an up-thrust rock, ending up on his back with his gleefully squealing mother atop him. He laughed softly and hugged her tight while Seifer averted his eyes and tried to pretend the scrap of Torama skin had not flown up.

"Oh, Irvine! Irvine my boy, my son!" she cried, tears running down her face.

Eli was much the same, though he swallowed his tears and remained more restrained. He smiled at Seifer, then suddenly reached out and hugged the man, smacking him heartily on the back.

"Thank you kindly, Sheriff," he said gruffly.

"It was just luck, Mr. Kinneas. Nothing more." He watched as Leanne lead Irvine up to the house, firing questions at him and wondered just how much the cowboy would tell her.

"Will y' be joinin' us fer a drink?" Eli asked, but Seifer shook his head.

"Naw. Left the Deputy on his own long enough. He's probably going crazy thinking that Malboro swallowed me."

"Oh, did y' git 'im?"

Once again, Seifer shook his head.

"Irvine did. Irvine and… a friend."

Eli arched a brow, but Seifer said no more. He swung up into Knightly's saddle and clucked the chocobo into a tired trot. Eli watched him go, then turned to Whipcrack and wondered how he was going to get the bridle-free bird into a stall for the night.

- - - - - - -

If the Kinneases had thought Irvine spent a lot of time with the chocobos before, it was nothing compared to how much time he spent with them now. He taught them all the various whistles Whipcrack already knew, and used them to protect himself from being forced to do cow chores. Even Eli couldn't push through a solid wall of yellow birds, and he wouldn't harm them.

He wore jeans, but nothing more and even these sometimes vanished mysteriously, to be replaced by the loincloth. He just couldn't stand the restriction of clothing anymore. He refused a new shotgun, instead fashioning himself a bow and sitting for hours whittling shafts and carving arrow heads, then fletching the arrows.

One day, he took Whipcrack and just left with nothing but a bag of various things and his new bow and arrows. He came back three days later with a mesmerize carcass which he carefully skinned, keeping the choicest pieces of meat which he showed Leanne how to cook, much to her surprise. He cured the hide, too, and the shining fur pelt soon adorned his parents' bed.

Selphie visited the moment she learned of his return. He was preparing to leave on another hunting trip when she came riding up their track, sitting daintily side-saddle atop a calm old female chocobo.

"Howdy, cowboy," she said cheerfully as she approached him, hips swinging. Her chocobo made a displeased sound - Selphie had tied the bird up in sight of the Kinneas chocobos, but she was completely unable to get to them.

"Mornin'," Irvine said softly, not looking up from the new arrows he was fletching.

"Aren't you gonna give me a hug?" Selphie asked after long moments of waiting in silence for just that.

He glanced up at her as though she were an idiot, then the look slowly vanished from his face and he nodded.

"Oh, right," he said and he stood, briefly hugging her. He began to step back but she giggled.

"That's it?!" she teased and her skirts flew and swung as she leapt on him, arms wrapping around his neck. He caught her reflexively and she pressed a deep kiss to his mouth. His lips parted for a sound of surprise, but she took that as invitation and her quick little tongue dipped.

Whatever else Irvine was, he had always been a ladies' man and _that_ was not something he could just ignore. Not now. His tongue ran along hers and his body reminded him just how long it had been since Zell's talented fingers stroked his skin.

Selphie giggled as he lay her down.

- - - - - - -

It was disgusting really, the way Seifer hovered around Irvine, like a bee around a flower. It almost made Squall feel sick enough to abandon his beer, and that was saying something.

For once, a very rare occasion these days, Irvine had entered the saloon, his blue eyes furtive and bright with wariness. He was at least wearing pants and a small vest which hung open, showing the wink of a gold hoop every so often, but he was barefoot and his hair fell free around his shoulders in auburn waves.

To anyone else it would likely appear that Seifer was being diligent in his duties, keeping close to the strange and unpredictable 'wildling' as he'd been quietly dubbed. Squall knew better. Seifer was almost _drooling_. It was vaguely embarrassing and _very_ irritating and the Deputy wanted to hit him. The fact that Rinoa was hanging around like a bad smell did _not_ improve his mood at all.

- - - - - - -

He couldn't remember why he'd liked this place so much now that he was here. It was loud and hot and the tobacco smoke almost choked him. He wished he was sitting around a fire, tapping his foot to rhythmic drumming and ululating song, drinking with Ahshey and Krerah and knowing that the night would end in Zell's arms.

Selphie had not satisfied him. Her female twitterings and soft murmurs barely affected him. His body was too used to responding to that masculine purr, and the expectation of obedience. Truthfully, he knew he was here two weeks after that event to find something more appealing.

He was sitting at a table, Seifer keeping him company, when a woman he didn't recognise entered, accompanied by several other girls. The general crowd hailed them cheerfully and each woman save the one with glasses was soon ensconced in a lap and deep in conversation. It took his brain a long time to supply him with the word 'whores' because there was no such thing where he'd spent the last several months.

"So, what was it like...?" a voice purred close by his ear and he jumped, looking up from his drink. Seifer was scowling at the blonde woman who'd appeared at Irvine's elbow, but the cowboy was intrigued. She carried an air of power, of expectance that she would be obeyed. He liked that. She was blonde and blue-eyed too, though her blue was a paler, icier colour than Zell's.

"What're you referrin' to ma'am?" he asked softly, entirely aware that a large part of him had already slipped into that recent need for submission.

"Your time with the savages..." she cooed, stroking his hair a little.

"Well for one," he said firmly and clearly. "They ain't savages." Some of the people around them fell silent and the woman's brows lifted.

"No...?"

"No, ma'am. They care about each other, just like we do and they've strict rules for relationships. They wear markings, so as no doubt arises as to who's who and what's what. And, in fact, in some ways, they're _more_ civilised than we are."

That sent mutterings around the saloon and Irvine glance around, glad of the small bone-handled daggers secreted in his vest.

"How so?" the woman asked apparently genuine interest.

"Well, ma'am, I'm afraid I, like, ought not say in front of a lady... nor in front've these fine gentleman drinkin' their share of happy." He stood, nodding politely to both the Sheriff and the woman, then took himself from the saloon.

A satisfied smirk found his lips as he heard heels on the verandah behind him, but he didn't turn, continuing into the night.

"Mr. Kinneas."

"Irvine." He halted, crickets chirruping in the evening hush, and the thin crowing of cockatrice making him cock his head a little, automatically judging the distance.

"Irvine. I'd very much like to hear about your adventure..."

"I'm sure, ma'am," he said dryly and heard her laugh. He missed Zell painfully. He needed it to go away.

"Quistis..." she corrected, then; "Come... I'd dearly wish to speak with you..."

He went, but they spoke very little, and the next morning, he left long before she woke and disappeared into the trees to be alone.

- - - - - - -

It almost worked. Quistis was strong and commanding and being with her masked the intense ache. It even dulled a little, though it would never go away, he knew. He could at least breathe without feeling as though he were inhaling cactuar-spines.

He was musing on this one morning as he went to collect some goods his father had ordered. But he found musing brought images and seeing Zell in his mind's eye hurt. And it made him see things for _real_.

As he muscled a sack of flour towards the door, a stocky blonde brushed past, he was sure, and slipped out the door into the early-morning light. But when Irvine left the store, looking wildly around, he was nowhere to be seen.

As he moved to the next store, he thought he saw the glint of a feather in more golden hair through a window, but there was no one within save the owner when he entered.

He went to the saloon for a drink and there sat a little blonde, dove-grey suit stretched taught across broad shoulders. But the two serving girls crossed paths before him and when he could see again, the suited man was gone – were he ever there to begin with.

But, real or not, Irvine's visions had shaken his pain to the surface again, and he knew of only one way to make it somewhat better. He strode from the saloon without his drink past the cart where the patient chocobo waited and made a beeline for the brothel. He was so intent on where he was going, he didn't even see the sheriff crossing his path until the pair of them collided and went sprawling to the ground.

"/Sorry,/" Irvine said reflexively, automatic reaction to someone clearly stronger, then he remembered where he was, cleared his throat and repeated himself in the appropriate language. "Sorry, Sheriff."

Seifer didn't say anything for a long moment, but then he murmured; "I know where you're going."

Irvine stared at him with wide eyes and didn't move as the Sheriff stood, brushing off his clothes. The tone in his voice sent Irvine's stomach flip-flopping.

"Going?" he echoed pushing hair and feather back behind an ear. Seifer offered a hand and he took it, shifting a little from foot to foot once the blond had hauled him up.

Seifer flicked jade eyes towards the brothel then looked at the cowboy again.

"Come with me instead."

Once again, Irvine was staring, but there was no deception in Seifer's eyes, and his gaze was as clear and certain as his voice had been; _Come with me._

"You're…" Irvine whispered abortively, but it didn't matter that he couldn't finish, because Seifer nodded once.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Come with me."

"Yes," Irvine breathed, a shiver zinging down his spine as Seifer smirked triumphantly. He followed the tall blond his mind had instantly dubbed taker and licked his lower lip in anticipation. _This_ was what he needed.

Sapphire eyes burned in his mind.

- - - - - - -

_/Irvine…/_

_/Zell…?/_

_/Feel me…/_

_/Oh, Zell…/_

_/Want me…/_

_/Always./_

_/Need me…/_

_/I do./_

_/…Love me…/_

_/I love you. I love you!/_

_/Love me./_

_/Please. I do./_

_/Show me./_

_/I don't know how./_

- - - - - - -

"/Show me…/"

Irvine jerked awake, looking wildly around at the echo of Zell's voice in his mind. But only Seifer was there, one arm laid possessively across his abdomen. The sun had made its way high into the sky and begun its slow descent back to earth, sending fingers of light across them through the slats on the window.

A shaking hand came to Irvine's mouth and he bit back a sob, not wanting to wake Seifer. He couldn't do it! He couldn't live without Zell – it was torture. It hurt in every cell, to the very marrow of his bones, and he wanted it to just end.

Dragging himself out of bed without disturbing the other man, Irvine dressed himself in the soft pants and open vest he'd been wearing before running into Seifer. He stumbled out of the Sheriff's home behind the jail and started on his way back to town. He was half way along the main street, heading for the chocobo and cart when he tripped and fell on hands and knees and just couldn't get up. His betrayal of Zell – several times over – bared by that voice in his dreams tore through him and dragged racking sobs from him, the kind that made his stomach hurt and his throat burn. Tears rained down on the dusty street and he was dimly aware of several footsteps – people leaving the shops and businesses down the main street to see what was going on.

He didn't care. He tore at his own hair and heard his own sobbing cries echo from the buildings around him and wished he could just die.

"Irvine!" Quistis' voice called softly, and heels clicked across porch, but a far firmer voice demanded;

"Leave him. He is _mine_."

A hand curled over the back of his neck and he twitched away, fisting his own hands and pressing them into his closed eyes.

"Don't touch me, Seifer."

"Seifer? This is not good. Has it been so long that you do not even recognise the voice of your own taker?"

The knees of a dove-grey suit came into his view, strong hands pressing to his cheeks and tilting his head up. He was sure the thick tears must be fooling his sight, because Zell didn't wear suits, and he didn't oil his hair back against his head like that, and anyway, he spoke _native_.

"Zell…?" Irvine whispered chokingly, hands dropping to grip at the material against the other man's thighs. "Zell?"

"Ai! What can this be? You see me right before you, yet you must ask? Could there be anyone else so powerful as I?"

Certainly, Irvine thought with desperate hope, there could be no one else so arrogant.

"N-no…" he whispered. "No one else."

"Indeed," the man said firmly. "No one."

A million questions flared in Irvine's mind, but they were all scattered when the breeze shifted and brought Zell's scent to his nose. He threw himself at the man, trying to fold himself into the lap he knew so well, and his tears began anew.

"Zell," he cried softly. "Oh, Zell, I'm sorry… I'm _sorry_…"

"There is nothing to be sorry for, my taken…" Zell whispered, and Irvine relaxed instantly when strong fingers smoothed through his tangled hair. The native tutted. "You have not been taking care of your hair," he said reprovingly.

Irvine laughed wetly, then he lifted his head so suddenly, he nearly caught Zell's jaw with it.

"You… you're speaking in…"

"Yes." Zell laughed. "I-"

"Zell Dincht. Well I never…"

They both looked up at the authoritative female voice and Zell bared his teeth in a grin.

"Quistis Trepe. Fancy that."

Irvine stared, completely dumbfounded and Quistis tapped her lower lip with a well-manicured fingernail.

"That puts us all here, at once. Uncanny, truly. I mean, I was surprised enough when I learned Seifer and Squall were Sheriff and Deputy here. Then I met Selphie when she came into town on an errand, and later learned that Irvine had been snatched away by a _savage_. Whoever would have thought this so-called savage was nothing but a wild orphan…?"

"Who indeed," Zell replied.

"But none of them remember."

"I know."

"You always did say you would have Irvine to yourself one day…"

Zell grinned fiercely, but it fell away suddenly and his eyes narrowed. Irvine reluctantly looked away from his lover's face to find Zell was glaring at Seifer.

"Oh, no…" he groaned.

- - - - - - -

There was no doubt in Zell's mind that what cowboy and Sheriff had done had been entirely consensual. However, as far as he was concerned, the taller blond had taken advantage of his Irvine and, more to the point, had his hands all over what he already knew wasn't his.

He stood, brushing Irvine's clinging hands away despite how he hated to do so, and dusted off his suit so it sat clean and pristine again. A wine-purple vest shone beneath the grey and his facial tattoo stood out sharply.

"Seifer," he growled and stalked along the street, black shoes sending up puffs of dust, until he stood toe-to-toe with the taller man. "Leave my taken be, or so help me I will _smother_ you in your _sleep_."

Zell at least had to admit a grudging appreciation for the fact that the Sheriff didn't even react to his speaking the language perfectly, and even without an accent. He just arched a golden brow and stared defiantly back at the tattooed man.

"He-" Seifer begun, but Zell didn't let him continue.

"I could care less what he did or did not do. I am telling _you_ right now to _never_ touch him again…" His eyes slid past Seifer, to find that Squall stood there, hand hovering near the gun holstered at his hip, and he bared his teeth in a grin, looking back up at the Sheriff. "Besides, you have your very own pretty taken to be dealing with…"

He waved a little to Squall.

"Heeey!"

"Oh," came Quistis' dry tones. "Now everyone is here."

Sure enough, Selphie came dashing down from the doctor's, holding her skirts up out of the way as she ran. Zell couldn't help but smile a little at her, despite her constant need to have her female hands all over his lover.

"Everyone? I don't understand…" Irvine said helplessly, standing as Selphie threw herself at him. He failed to react and didn't catch her, so she ended up stumbling awkwardly against him and sending him stumbling a step to one side. Zell snickered then reached out and drew Irvine to his side, eyeing her harshly.

"We were all there together, Irvine," Quistis said gently. "You, Zell, Selphie, Squall, Seifer and I."

"Where?" he asked, Selphie looking just as confused.

"The orphanage," Zell put in. "You don't remember… you were all a lot younger when you were taken away, so you didn't recognise us. But… I knew you all when I saw you."

"And so did I," Quistis said. "It was hard enough to believe five of us were here, let alone Zell turning up as well. You wouldn't read about it."

"No… Ahshey… Ahshey is your brother…" Irvine said, staring at Zell.

"Adoptive, only. I was never adopted from the orphanage, because I was… hmm…"

"A pain in the arse?" Quistis suggested.

"_Uncontrollable_," Zell decided instead, smirking at her. After all, it wasn't _his_ fault he was born so strong and so much better than the rules that bound this society…

"I can understand that," Irvine said dryly.

"Yes. Quistis was just too smart. Prospective parents don't like children who know more than they do… So she had to leave when she turned eighteen and I never saw her again until now. Then I had to leave when I turned eighteen. I failed to fit in anywhere. I had no desire to be bound by the sorts of rules encountered here… and one day when I was out hunting, I came across a party of braves – one of whom was Ahshey. I saw straight away how they worked, how being stronger put you higher on the pecking order, and how the way I was-"

"Arrogant and always wanting your own way…?" Quistis arched a brow.

"-wasn't frowned on with them. So I decided I would much rather live there than here. Kiros hated me, from the moment I set foot there, but Ahshey adopted me as his brother, so there was nothing he could do about it. It is why he was so angry about you…"

"That's why… Krerah said you and Ahshey… while you were away…"

Zell laughed softly and shook his head at Irvine.

"Did you never wonder why my 'brother' has skin the colour of tree bark and hair the colour of the night sky and my own skin is far paler, my hair golden?"

Irvine blinked.

"It crossed my mind a couple of times but I didn't, like, want to offend you by askin' about it… I thought maybe you had one non-native parent or somethin'…"

Zell laughed harder, reaching up to ruffle Irvine's hair.

"My tan must be darker than I thought then."

"So… we were all at the orphanage?" Selphie said, making them all jump. They'd forgotten she was there.

Seifer rubbed a hand across his face as Squall came up alongside him, the brunette glaring a little up at the blond.

"Maybe we should all go get a drink, and talk this out some more," Seifer suggested, then made a sudden sound of surprise when Squall reached across to catch hold of his belt, so the Deputy's arm was effective slung around him.

"I been thinking some stuff, Seifer…" he said softly. "And I think it definitely needs talking out…"

"Whoooa…" Selphie said, eyes nearly popping from her head. Not to be outdone, Zell caught hold of Irvine and pulled him close, bending him back for a deep, passionate kiss. "_Whoooa_!" the farmgirl cried again.

"I am sorry…" Zell whispered when he drew away, then slipped back into the native tongue; "/I never meant to return for you. I know you wanted to be with your family, but I could not bare to be apart from you… Let me stay…/"

- - - - - - -

Irvine stared up at his taker, completely confused. Zell had never asked him for anything, not once in the entire time since he'd stolen him away. Now he asked to stay here…?

"But you… /But you were the one who sent me away…/"

"/I knew you wanted to be with your family. I could never bare it if you began to hate me for keeping you./"

Irvine was silent for several minutes, considering this and he realised that Zell was probably right. Had he not come home and discovered how little he really did miss it, he probably would have come to resent Zell – though he wouldn't go so far as hate.

He slowly shook his head.

"/I don't want to stay here…/" he said slowly. "/I want you to take me home… back to Krerah, _my_ brother, and the other braves… back where you can be what you are and I can be what I am – yours./"

Zell seemed genuinely surprised.

"/But… your family…/"

"/I can visit… Besides…/" He reached out, plucking at the vest until it fell open beneath his fingers. "/This is too much clothing, and it covers all your perfection…/"

Zell smirked.

"/Well this is true…/"

"/Zell…?/"

"/Yes?/"

"/Take me into Quistis' place and have me as my taker should…/"

Zell just growled, scooped him up, and carried him away, ignoring the stares of those around them. Quistis laughed and followed them back into the brothel, while Seifer and Squall took themselves back to the jail to talk. Selphie was left standing there, looking rather confused, and she scratched her ear, then shrugged and wandered off, kicking a little at the ground.

- - - - - - -

Irvine ran a hand through his loosed hair and shifted a little on Whipcrack's back, glancing over to Zell who sat Shir'nis with his usual easy arrogance. They had both reverted to the Torama-skin, and Irvine smiled at the freedom.

His parents hadn't really understood, but he would try to explain whenever he saw them – which Zell had promised would be regularly. Eventually, they _would_ understand, or if they didn't, they would accept it. And if they didn't… Irvine couldn't say he didn't care, but he would not let it rule him. He wanted this, and he was going to take it…

Or rather – he ran his eyes up and down Zell's body – it was going to take him…

He grinned and was about to move Whipcrack closer when an excited cry of his name rang through the forest. The bird gave a sudden warble of shock as Krerah burst from the bushes and literally tackled him off the feathered back.

"Irvine/You're back! You're back!/" The native rained kisses on his face and Irvine could only laugh.

"/Ah, then you brought him back. For once you have done something intelligent…/" Ahshey remarked laconically. "/Amazing./" He leant against a tree, eyeing the display from his own taken with an amused smile and the arch of a raven brow.

"/Yes,/" Zell replied grudgingly. "/For once _you_ were right, and I was not. He did want to come back./"

The taller native pushed off the tree with a nonchalant wave of his hand, moving over to the pair of taken and hauling his own bodily off the other.

"/For once? I am always right, my brother. Besides, _you_ chose to come and remain with us, did you not? It is a much better lifestyle./" A dexterous toe reached out and flicked back Irvine's loincloth, white teeth flashing a lecherous grin against dark lips. "/And the clothing is infinitely better…/"

"Ahshey!" Irvine cried, pushing the cloth back down to preserve what little modesty he had left.

Zell merely smirked and helped Irvine to his feet. Shir'nis and Whipcrack had taken themselves off towards the warking of the other chocobos, so the quartet wandered back to camp on foot.

The instant they came out of the trees into the currently occupied clearing, Irvine knew he was home. He relaxed completely, and he didn't feel awkward or out of place at all. Krerah slung an arm around his waist from one side, and Zell from the other and a smile curled across his lips.

Krerah extracted a promise that they would actually leave their teepi for the evening meal before he would let himself be pried away from the cowboy. Even as he walked away with Ahshey he was calling reminders back to them, and they laughed as they ducked inside.

Irvine was only too happy to let Zell lay him down and he breathed a pleased sigh as his taker settled over him. He curled an arm around the strong back and his fingers up into his lover's pale hair, holding him gently.

"/I love you,/" he murmured.

"/I have always loved you… From the moment I saw you the first day at the orphanage, I knew you would be mine…/"

"/I am yours…/" Irvine agreed.

"/Mine…/" Zell purred. "/Mmm, yes… mine./"

Irvine clutched harder and leaned up, lipping at his lover's earlobe just to feel him shiver, and after a long moment, the cowboy breathed;

"/…_Mine_…/"

- - - - - - -

_The End._

- - - - - - -

Author's Notes: Omgosh, I can't believe it's finished. –cry– I'm kinda sad but kinda happy as well. Now I have to get to work on all those half-done one-shots while I think of an idea for another long one… Heh. Love you all. I hope you enjoyed the ride. Watch out for my next masterpiece! ;)


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